


A dragon on a leash

by Coryphion



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, F/M, Investigations, Lux (Lucifer TV), Murder Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 83,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22345834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coryphion/pseuds/Coryphion
Summary: Chloe’s life is a mess at the moment. Her marriage in ruins, career at an impasse. She relays more and more on the help of her new consultant. The problem is how long would she manage to deceive herself that he is no more than the eccentric musician and club owner.
Relationships: Chloe Decker & Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 63
Kudos: 270





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> The story is cross-posted on fanfiction.net, as I started my adventure with fanfiction there. However, I read many great stories on this portal and I'd like to be a part of this fandom.  
> This story will be based on the first season, my favourite, somewhere before the Palmetto case was solved. First chapters would follow the series, then they would evolve into an independent plot. It will be written from Chloe's POV.  
> The characters might not be entirely coherent with the TV show. I know that in the show Chloe was always perfect, making the right decisions. In my stories, she would be making mistakes. Lucifer, on the other hand, won't be that emotional and prone to manipulation as in the show.  
> Lucifer's siblings or any other celestial being won't be making an appearance.  
> It is not a classic love story. It a story of giving in to the temptation and the consequences. More or less:)  
> I own nothing. I am writing for pleasure.  
> The story is in progress, I may make some changes or corrections.

_I am shot_ , realized Chloe Decker even before the impact of the shot knocked her off her feet, her body crashing heavily into the glass and furniture. The searing pain in her arms came a mere seconds later. _Jimmy Barnes is still alive. I should have checked him._

Instead, she started to quarrel with the man, who was accompanying her, the musician from Lux. Her whole attention – how unusually – shifted to this strange conversation. She, who was always so focused and professional, this time failed miserably, because Barnes was alive, he had a gun, shot her and was about to shoot again in the next second.

She fought to reach for her gun, all efforts in vain, the pain in her arm immobilizing her. _It's bad. Too bad_ , her instinct told her. Barnes would shoot and she was helpless. Her thoughts, as usual in the moment of danger immediately ran to Trixie. If she died here, Trixie would lose her mother. Trixie, her little girl, still so young, so vulnerable.

"I don't want to die," Chloe complained to the man kneeling over her, hardly realizing why she is doing that. She should rather try again to reach for her gun.

"You won't," he replied so matter-of-factly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I won't let you."

For a moment, Chloe believed him. His confidence seemed… so justified. For a moment she forgot, he was only some performer or musician. _I won't die, if he said so_ , she thought hazily. Though she was wounded and helpless amidst crushed glass and furniture, she felt safe.

And then she heard Jimmy Barnes shot again, and the men leaning over her winced, grunting. Chloe understood he was shot as well, the safe feeling gone, replaced by remorse. This man would die here with her. She was on duty, but he wasn't. He was just a civilian, unarmed, unprepared. He shouldn't be here. She shouldn't have let him. It was her fault.

The second shot fell, the musician winced again and she prepared for her companion's body to fall limp over her.

She should have sent him away long ago, she should have called for back up, she should be more careful, check on Barnes, spent more time with Trixie… The wave of guilt - guilt for leaving Trixie, guilt for this musician - was so strong and painful, that it blurred her vision.

Or perhaps it was blood leak? She was getting cold. Unable to think coherently, she watched as the musician, instead of falling down, stood up and started to walk slowly to Barnes. Barnes was shooting, but the musician was still walking, slowly, but steadily, the last shot firing when he took the gun from Barnes' hand and Chloe was too cold to understand anything, and finally, the world went black.

* * *

Only a few days later, in the hospital, she did realize, that this was the first time when she truly noticed him. Before that, she hardly paid attention. Eccentric as he was, Los Angeles was full of freaks. On the list of weirdest people she had to deal with in her line of duty, he wouldn't place even in the first ten. But when she was laying on the floor, with the blood leaking from her shoulder, slowly falling into unconsciousness – at this moment she thought to be her hour of death – then she saw him and something changed.

She knew something special happened.

She rationalized it, of course, as everything in her life. She convinced herself, she was just curious about these shots, that supposedly penetrated him, but did him no harm. She was curious, intrigued and needed an explanation. That's why she kept thinking about this man.  
However deep inside – even if she was not willing to admit it – she knew the mystery was much deeper.

* * *

In the hospital, everything seemed to be back to normal. Her new friend came. That was nice, he didn't have to, considering how brief their acquaintance was. However he came, all smiles and charms, bringing substantial turmoil among medical personnel, the nurses swooning at the mere sight of his impeccable suit. He was joking and laughing and when she asked him, how it was that he was not hurt, he dismissed her with some quip. His answer was so light and natural, that for a moment she believed that Jimmy simply missed.

However, when she later replayed that scene in her head again – and again - she knew, it was not like that. Even fainting from the blood loss, Chloe was observant and trusted her senses. She remembered well, how he tilted when Jimmy shot. She remembered the angle of Jimmy's hand with the gun. Jimmy aimed well. His shots hit the target, not once, but quite a few times.

Finally, she decided to ask Dan when he visited her in the hospital. Somehow, he started the subject himself.

"What were you thinking, Chloe, taking this freak with you?" he asked unceremoniously as usual. "If he got shot as well, you would be screwed up at work. For a moment, the boss wanted to launch the investigation anyway."

"Why did you say 'If he got shot '?" she replied, ignoring the reproach. She was well used to Dan's nagging. "He must have been shot. What did the meds say?"

"Nothing, they didn't see him," Dan shrugged his shoulders. "When police arrived at the place, he just said he was fine. But Chloe, it was a narrow miss. You should know better. We do not take friends to work."

"He is not my friend, he just wanted to help. The case concerned him, he was with that singer, Delilah, when she was shot," defended Chloe, though she heard herself, how stupid her excuse was. 

"Right. And we are a tourist agency, taking anyone on a ride who wants to help," replied Dan sarcastically. "What's his name again? Morgenstern? Is he German, or what?"

"Morningstar," corrected Chloe with sudden irritation. Morningstar, she liked how it sounded.

Dan chuckled. "Is it some kind of pseudo, or what?"

"No, it is official in his papers. Hey, what's so strange about it? Remember how we interrogated Porcupine Alaska?"

"Yeah," nodded Dan. "but even that sounded less pompous. All this devil's talk, it's sick to me."

"I think it is just a marketing strategy." Chloe shrugged her shoulders. Porcupine Alaska believed himself to be the incarnation of Nanook. Mr Morningstar claimed to be the devil. That was LA, after all. "He owns the night club. Night club, nightlife, entertainment, sinful pleasures. You know, it connects. Catchy slogans for commercials."

While recovering in the hospital Chloe googled her new acquaintance, fishing for information. Most of her findings came from gossip portals and would require thorough clean-up of the browser, as she wouldn't like Trixie to came across it. However, she managed to learn that he was not exactly a musician or performer. He played the piano only in Lux. No concerts, no records. He was known rather as Lux' owner and shameless playboy than the artist. Therefore, all this talk about being devil, superpowers and immortality, that she first thought to be some kind of artistic concept, must have been rather a way of gaining publicity for his business. After all, people searching for entertainment in the night clubs would certainly like to visit the one run by the devil.

"But certainly he has the devil's luck," continued Chloe with consideration. "To come out of the shooting without a scratch? Twice? I am not certain how exactly it was when Delilah was shot, but I was sure that Jimmy Barnes hit him."

Dan eyed her for a moment and then shrugged his shoulders.

"Perhaps he had a bulletproof vest. I bet he has some connections with the mob."

"The mob usually is not that flamboyant. But yes, it could have been a vest," Chloe nodded eagerly, with relief. That would explain everything. Then, however, she shook her head with a heavy sigh. "No, it cannot be so simple. Even if he was wearing a jacket, shots hurt like hell. He wouldn't be able to move so easily."

"I don't know, perhaps he was high?" snorted Dan. "He looks as if he was high all the time. Do you know that he was smoking weed in the hospital hall?"

"Really?" Chloe was more amused than shocked. "And what happened? Did they throw him out?"

"No," replied Dan, furrowing his brows, as if he just realized something strange. "No, they didn't. I think that someone just asked him to finish on the balcony."

"You see? He has everyone wrapped around his finger," laughed Chloe. "And you wonder why I let him take part in the investigation. He is not easy to refuse."

Dan muttered something angrily, but Chloe only smiled. She was so happy that her adventure cost her no more than a small scar on her shoulder… And Lucifer Morningstar was certainly the unusual man, she would remember him a long time, though it was unlikely she would meet him often in the future. She didn't have to ponder too much on his eccentric behaviour. It would be no more than a passing acquaintanceship.  
She would only have to check whether he was wearing the bulletproof jacket. The riddle would be solved then.

* * *

The LUX owner didn't disappear from Chloe's life after Delilah case, on the contrary – his presence was more and more distinct. To tell the truth, her first reaction was positive. She wouldn't admit it, but it was good to have someone by her side to simply talk to, with no strings attached.

Her life was such a mess at the moment.

The divorce, that was already settled, but still perhaps not definitively. Perhaps she still could do something to save her marriage, but should she? Did she want to? Her mother, nagging and not understanding her at all. Trixie, pretending to be so brave, but Chloe knew better, and even if she didn't, the polite, but decisive notes from the school psychologist pointed her at the growing problem with her daughter's insecurities. Finally, the situation at work, where all of a sudden, she became the pariah, just because she wanted to be true to her principles. Dan blaming her for all the failures, private and professional ones.

 _I just wanted to do everything right, and still, everything broke down_ , she thought with regret.

And here she met this man, so funny, talkative, intriguing, who didn't want anything from her.

Well, no. Actually, he wanted many things all the time, like the 5-year-old child with impaired concentration. He wanted her to take him to the crime scene, let him interrogate witnesses, break into houses and rummage through people's belongings, to have sex with him, to drive him home, so that he could change into the fresh shirt, to provide him with more 'interesting murder', whatever that meant, to listen to him talking about himself – and then more about himself – and himself again, and did she already mention sex?... He was demanding many things with the most egocentric charm she had ever seen in her life.

However, dealing with him was so… refreshing. After all, he didn't want to her to save her marriage, close the case in spite of her conscience, or 'provide the child with more stable emotional background' whatever that meant again. These were the demands she was tired of and afraid of.

Oh yes, when he broke into her house, she got scared for a moment, but only a little. For a moment she thought that she was dealing with an obsessed freak, but only for a moment. Lucifer certainly was not obsessed about her. Lucifer could be only obsessed about himself, oh, and he certainly was. He was absolutely self-centred, whatever he did, he did it for himself.

Besides, the breakfast he made was the best she ate in ages.

So, talking to Lucifer was fun, and rejecting his propositions, even the intimate ones, was not embarrassing, because he took the refusals so easily. Chloe didn't think that he was really interested in her. He showered her with proposals out of curiosity and habit, not out of actual infatuation.

She started to like him, really. In spite of his immaturity, impudence and blatant disregard of law and social rules, working with him were fun. He was witty, he didn't judge her, and above all, he was deeply devoted to solving the case – and this was the feature that Chloe, the detective of flesh and blood, had to admire. Had there been nothing more, she would like to work with him.

However, it was only one side of the coin.

The other side was more… unsettling.

It is not that she was troubled by his delusions about hell, "all these devil-talk", as Dan called it, no. She had too much common sense. Of course, she realised that it must have been more than a marketing strategy. Most certainly he really believed it, yet somehow Chloe couldn't place him in the same category as the sloppy cult leaders that announced themselves to be incarnations of divine forces and made their believers commit mass suicide. No, the man with such obsession on Armani suits and best cuisine Los Angeles could offer certainly wasn't going to commit murder in the name of some psychotic phantasy.

However, she was a bit unsettled with "the favours". That sounded too much like organized crime and Chloe feared there was something in it. After all, it is not easy to make such money with keeping one's hands clean. She even discreetly checked LUX against what she despised the most – drug trade and human trafficking. However, she found nothing. Usually, the night clubs draw shady deals like moths, but LUX was spotless. She accepted the information with relief and didn't search for anything else. Perhaps Mr Morningstar helped his fortune along by meddling with taxes, but it was something she could live with.

So, Chloe decided that the favours idea came from watching too many Godfather movies (which would also explain his liking for expensive suits). However, one question remained open: why would no one ever refuse to repay the favour?

Once he realized it for the first time, she felt a creeping sensation crawling on her neck.

The other unsettling subjects were his outbursts of anger. It was not that Chloe was shy of violence, she knew how to fight and how to deal with the most aggressive thugs. But Lucifer was not law-abiding citizen, outraged with crime and depravity. No, he was cynical, sneering at emotions, debauched and usually cold-hearted. The man like him shouldn't care for rightness, not that much. And yet, when confronted with the culprit, he blazed up with unstoppable wrath. He was literally obsessed with justice.

 _No, not justice. Punishment_ , corrected herself Chloe and the creeping sensation on her back got stronger.

Considered in this context, the hell-and-devil-metaphor he kept on so stubbornly, made an impression even on her rational mind. Yes, devil owning the night club is a kinky slogan, but devil obsessed on punishing – is not kinky at all. It is terrifying.

What's worse, she had a feeling, that some undercurrent turmoil of emotions in her partner was growing.

When she shot Jimmy Barnes, his protests were only verbal. When they investigated the paparazzi, he went further, playing some weird game with the help of his even more weird barmaid girlfriend. In the next case, he crossed the line of physical violence, throwing Joe Hansen through the glass panel. And finally, when they were searching for Lindsay, he went all out, intercepting the whole scene for himself, leaving her just in front of the locked factory gate.

She felt, that – whatever it was that was motivating him – was quickly escalating. She didn't understand it, but her anxiety was also growing.

And finally, there were these things she just couldn't explain, even if she was used to explaining rationally everything around her. The shots that didn't hurt him. Jimmy Barnes in the mental institution. All these people, opening their hearts and minds in front of him, like the mice enchanted by the snake. Him being too strong and too quick.

She thought about drugs and steroids, spent a few sleepless nights reading about hypnotic skills, but there were too many inexplicable things to explain. And when she managed to build some wobbly but more or less coherent explanation she was ready to believe in – it was all ruined by that flicker of red she almost managed to see on his face.

Yes, when she thought about it, the goosebumps crawled from her neck down her spine. Finally, after a few days of creeps, doubts and hectic searches on the internet, she was scared beyond her rational mind.

 _That's why I overreacted in this factory_ , admitted Chloe. How could I? The worst thing was not shooting his leg, but this question she asked when her nerves were at highest alert: "What are you?"  
Oh, how could she lose her common sense to such extent?

And yet she did, when she saw him, standing upright, towering among three people curling and sobbing at the floor when she heard him beaming with such dark satisfaction as if he was feeding on their fears… She finally lost her reason and senses, for a moment believing, that she was dealing with some inhuman, dark creature.

What terrified her most in the scene she saw in the factory, was that he seemed so much… in place amidst the fear, pain and misery of the people going through the worst drama of their lives.

 _As if they belonged to him_ , thought Chloe with awe. They didn't, of course, they didn't. It was not like with Delilah or Ty, he was not personally involved in the case… And yet Chloe felt that some very dangerous limit was crossed.

That was why she started to yell, not at Lindsay or her brother, but at Lucifer, as if he was the biggest danger – and it cost her much to yell at him at this moment, she would prefer to curl herself on the floor and with closed eyes and ears like the others. All right, she panicked and for a moment believed it all, she, who was a confirmed atheist, believed that she was dealing with the actual devil and when he challenged her once again to test his alleged immortality – she shot.

She could only be thankful for the remains of her reason that made her shoot his leg, instead of the chest, for example.

The sight of his blood was like a sobering wave. What has she done? The man in front of her, now curling and moaning in pain – how could she think that he was a demon? A devil? Because he said so? He was free to say what he wanted but she was the one to know better and never ever use her weapon as proof in some weird game!

"I am sorry, I am so sorry," she repeated hectically, trying to hold him, her insides twisting as she saw his handsome face changed with pain. How could she do it to him? A devil? He was a musician, a playboy, her witty companion and a volunteer helping her in the investigation. And yes, there was probably something wrong with his head – didn't he mention visiting the shrink – but that wasn't the reason to shot him!

Only when he started to talk with Monroe, she thought that she would lose her job, or at least her badge. Probably she would consider it a fair punishment. Police officers cannot shoot people at whim… even their whim. They should move her to some desk duty, or to the labs… She should probably ask for transfer herself, but she was too weak to do it. She just remained silent and let him explain the situation in his own, twisted way.

But that wasn't the end of it.

In the same night, she woke up abruptly and saw the whole scene in the factory again, this time in a more sober way. What exactly did she see?

 _He wasn't even touching Lindsay_ , she realized. _He was only speaking._

Right, he knew how to strike the chord with his words. He used to say strange, disturbing things, especially when carried by anger. However, these were only words. These people in the factory, Lindsay, her brother, Carver, they did it to themselves on their own. They were crushed by their personal drama. Lucifer had nothing to do with it. He was no more than a catalyst, bringing them all together.

And she thought him to be a devil and shot him.

She imagined herself standing in the court and saying: "Your Honor, I thought that Mr Morningstar is an evil monster because he looked so dangerous. No, he didn't touch anyone, but he was speaking to them and they were scared. Yes, I think Lindsay was crying, because she was afraid of hell, not because she was caught up red-handed on the attempted extortion. And besides, Your Honor, there was something red flicking in the glass. Yes, these could have been the warning lights from the outside, but I'd rather believe that these were his eyes."

 _I would not only lose my badge, but I would also end in the mental hospital_ , she thought with a slight smile, that faded when she thought about Trixie.

She was in the middle of a divorce. Dan didn't make it ugly, but he cared for Trixie. If he heard about her hallucinations, he would certainly sue her for full care and win. Who would entrust the child to the mother who shoots at people to check whether they are bulletproof?

Chloe froze, terrified.

"What happened to me?" she moaned aloud. "I will never, ever let my reason be clouded again."

And it wouldn't do any harm to apologize to Lucifer again so that he didn't change his mind about not issuing the complaint. One could never know, with someone so fickle. Chloe decided, she would visit him in LUX tomorrow.

* * *

What Chloe liked in the LUX was that this place was always so clean, even at 10 a.m., when the staff should be merely starting to order the place after the night. She has visited a few night clubs and usually the debauchery of the entertainment they offered affected somehow their exterior, like some sticky sediment on the furniture, or the smell of the mould in the corners. But not the LUX. LUX was always fresh and shiny, like the well-polished champagne glass.

"I'd like to speak with the boss," she said to the young man – Patrick, if she recalled his name – who was ordering bottles behind the counter.

"Sure," he smiled to her, reaching for the phone. Staff in the LUX was always friendly. Well, perhaps with the exception of the first day, when she wanted to hear Lucifer as a witness and they exchanged a few lashing words. No one in the LUX smiled at her on that day.

On her way to the LUX, Chloe considered some small apology gift and provided herself with a package of proverbial police donuts. Of course, knowing how fastidious Lucifer was, she didn't even try to think of something more serious. However, a box of donuts was a traditional gift at the precinct for each occasion. Now she placed the box at the counter and slightly grimaced, seeing how out of place the colourful carton looked at the dark, shiny glass.

Many things that seemed right outside, looked much different inside LUX.

Before Lucifer appeared, she heard quick and light steps at the stairs and turned to see Lucifers' girlfriend, Maze, descending the stairs. Even so early in the morning, when the club was closed for the guests, she was wearing thigh-high black leather and heavy make-up, as if he just came from the cosplay convention impersonating the heroine of Penelope's Decker movies. Or from an adult movie shoot.

"Hello," said Chloe a bit too weakly. She always felt somehow uncomfortable around Maze. During their previous meetings, the barmaid only scornfully eyed her up and down. This time was different.

"You!" she exclaimed running to Chloe and neared close, much too close, stepping far into Chloe's personal space. For a moment, she stared into her eyes intently, and then lowered to Chloe's neck, taking a deep breath, as if she was… sniffing at her? Chloe, confused, shifted back.

"Amazing," stated Maze, looking at Chloe with disbelief. "There is nothing special about you."

"Excuse me?" snarled Chloe, stepping forwards again. She was not about to be intimidated by the jealous cosplay barmaid.

"Was it really you who shot him?" asked the barmaid, not sounding jealous, but utterly perplexed. "You are human."

"And what else should I be?" Chloe rolled her eyes. Whatever Lucifer and this girl were playing at, she didn't even listen to it anymore. She got her lesson yesterday.

"There are many possibilities," Maze replied slowly and smiled, baring her teeth like in a way that made her look like a big cat of pray. "However, you are none of them."

"Look, I know that you two have your game, that's fine, but it does not concern me, ok? Leave me out of it."

"You have no idea how much I'd like to," Maze replied sharply. "Unfortunately he…."

"Maze. Good morning, Detective."

Hearing Lucifer's voice they both turned to the stairs. Chloe couldn't help a small smile, looking at him. 10 a.m. and of course, he was already in one of his black suits and crisp white shirt, adjusting the cuff-links, as if his spotless appearance needed any corrections.

"Hi. How are you feeling?" Chloe started a bit sheepishly. "How's your leg?" Only now did she notice, that Lucifer was descending the stairs with his usual grace as if nothing hindered his movements. And here she thought she would find him lying in the sweats on the couch, taking painkillers. More probably he had already done a few drinks of this '20-year-old single malt' he couldn't live without. "Does it not hurt?"

"Oh, no, everything is fine already. Luckily, my healing rate wasn't affected," replied lightly Lucifer. He joined them, leaning casually at the counter. Unfortunately for Chloe, who hoped for a moment of serious conversation, Maze didn't leave, standing firmly between her and Lucifer, the hostility literally beaming from her.

"What is that you want?" the barmaid asked Chloe. "Don't you have anything else to do? No stolen purses or double-parked cars?"

"Maze." Lucifer cut her off, this time speaking her name with a shadow of reproach. He turned to Chloe and explained with a smile. "Maze is simply concerned with… the security issue."

"Ah, she is also your bodyguard?" guessed Chloe. Now it almost made sense. The relation between Lucifer and Maze was peculiar. Chloe thought earlier, that Maze was his girlfriend. However, she had to admit there was no sensual tension between them. No, not as if their relations were purely professional. _Rather as if they had slept so many times together, that all sparks faded_ , passed through Chloe's mind.

"Kind of," snapped Maze. "And I would very much like to know what exactly happened yesterday."

"Maze," repeated Lucifer once again, before Chloe managed to reply and made a small move with his head. Maze, very reluctantly tore off from the counter and walked back, placing herself half a step behind him. Chloe watched it, feeling quite weird.

'Maze knows her place', Lucifer remarked once casually and Chloe thought then it was some stupid chauvinistic remark. Now she was not that sure if that was really that simple.

Suddenly she wanted to leave LUX. She felt there was something off with this place, this spotless night club, all in a glare of lights, the perfectly groomed, clothed in black and white owner, who was now leaning over the counter and watching her with knowing smile, and this cosplay barmaid bodyguard behind his back. It was like seeing a picture from another world. Something strange, but also familiar, encouraging her to stay and join them.

Almost desperately she recalled herself, that outside the streets of Los Angeles are flooded with sun. She has a job to go to, errand to complete. Trixie needed a new pencil box, she promised her to buy one in the shop near the precinct. She had to make an appointment with the pediatrist for the annual checkup. Buy groceries. The causal, well-known world was waiting outside.

She tried to gather her thoughts and remember, why she came here.

"Look, I wanted to apologize," she stated. "Yesterday... I do not know what happened to me. Here. A sign of truce," she finished with more confidence reaching for a box of donuts. The colourful box with a well-known logo made her feel more secure.

"Well, more interesting is what happened to me," muttered Lucifer. "And this is… ah… what…" he eyed the box cautiously, not touching its sweet, sticky content, then passed a quick glance at the black sleeves of his jacket. Chloe couldn't help but laugh.

"That's fine, you do not have to eat it. It is just a gesture."

"Thank you," the man sighed with relief.

Instead, Maze reached to the box, brushing against Chloe, reached for the cake and bit it, licking her fingers so suggestively, that Chloe involuntarily cast her eyes aside. Luckily after this little show, the barmaid sauntered off, finally leaving Chloe and Lucifer alone.

Chloe continued, now more easily.

"Thanks for covering up for me. Otherwise, I would be screwed. At work and everywhere."

"You are clearly overreacting, Detective. It is really not that important," Lucifer waved his hands dismissively and Chloe couldn't help but think, that he is speaking not about his wound, but about her potential problems.

"Well, it is. I am in the middle of a divorce. We are still settling the details of the care over Trixie. If Dan heard about it, he would say I'm unbalanced. I could lose her."

"And you do really prefer to keep that little monster? "Lucifer looked at her with genuine surprise. "I am at a loss for your reasons. But perhaps you consider raising her as a punishment for sleeping with such pitiful creature like Detective Douche? In such case, I understand."

"My daughter is a blessing, not punishment," snapped Chloe angrily. Damn, how irritating could this man be? Here she came, full of good intentions, and where did it lead her? To calm her nerves she reached for the donut – and then she felt something was wrong.

"Yess, I suppose so," drawled slowly Lucifer. "You would be surprised how close one can be to another. What happened?" he added seeing that Chloe is nervously checking her midsection.

"My gun disappeared," she explained, retrieving empty holster and looking around.

Lucifer rolled his eyes.

"Mazikeen!" he yelled.

The dark-haired barmaid walked slowly toward them, keeping Chloe's gun in her hand.

"Yes, yes, I am not deaf. I just wanted to check what these bullets are made from."

Chloe, shaking with anger, ripped the weapon from her hand.

"Standard supply, police central order, thank you very much, don't you ever fucking touch my gun again!" she snapped leaning toward Maze. The barmaid bared her teeth again in the parody of smile and hissed like a wildcat. For a second Chloe braced herself for the physical attack, but before it happened Lucifer moved Maze aside grabbing her by the blouse on her back.

"That's enough, Mazikeen," he said quietly.

"I haven't done anything… yet." Maze kept his sight for a moment then reached for another donut – this time Chloe moved cautiously back - and finally walked away, snapping her fingers for Patrick, to follow her upstairs.

"Are you sure she is a good choice for a bodyguard?" asked Chloe angrily. "I understand that she is cross at me for shooting you, but… listen, she… she sniffed around me to check whether… whether I am human, she snitched my gun… Do you really think that she able to guard your safety?"

Malicious sparks danced in Lucifer's eyes. "Well… considering the fact that she managed to snitch your weapon…"

Chloe took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. _It is their playground_ , she thought. _This all has nothing to do with me._

"Well, I will be going," she stated. "Just please, remember, do not mention about yesterday's incident to anyone who might know me. I understand that it does not seem important to you, but for me, it is, very much," she stressed hoping that she would finally get to Lucifer's self-centred mind. "You talked me into it, so do not get me into bigger trouble."

"Of course. I will utter no word through eternity."

"Well, I guess that this would be enough," smiled Chloe. "Does it count as a favour?" she added jokingly and chuckled.

Lucifer didn't reply straight away. His lingering tinted her joking remark with unexpected gravity and Chloe for a moment felt uncomfortable again.

"No," he decided finally. "It was me who asked you to shoot. It wouldn't be fair to call it a favour."

Chloe felt angry at herself for the relief she felt hearing his 'no'. What was it about these favours? Anyway, she was not going to give in to some hallucinations again.

"Good. Have a nice day," she said lightly and turned to the exit.

"But, Detective," she heard his silky voice coming from behind her back. "It is my role to lead you into temptation, whereas yours would be to resist it. Since you didn't, you might have just sealed the deal with the devil."

Chloe tugged at the doorknob. "Ha, funny," she smiled but preferred not to turn back and see his face at the moment. 

_I am done with this_ , she reminded herself. _No more surrendering to illusions. That's simply something that his shrink should sort for him out. It does not concern me._

She exited with relief at the sunny street and, strengthening her resolve, tried to forget this conversation, because many things that seemed normal at the LUX, looked much different outside.

* * *

A few hours later Lieutenant Monroe – a bit flushed and unusually excited Lieutenant Monroe - announced to her, that Mr Morningstar, as their new civil consultant, would be her new permanent partner.


	2. Who can stand before jelousy?

"I got the new case," announced Dan, not even trying to hide the pride in his voice. "And, Chloe, it is THE case."

Chloe immediately guessed whit he was speaking about. "You mean… Benitez case? Oh, Dan, that's huge!"

Benitez was a contrite dealer who agreed to cooperate with the police. His connections were wide, himself – clever and apparently truly repentant and the operation promised big success for all involved.

"I will get my own team and a free hand to lead the operation," Dan eye's sparkled with excitement. "Chloe, I think that might be a beginning of real boost for me."

"You deserve it. Congratulations," Chloe patted his shoulder, but for a short second her face fell. There was a moment she hoped to get the Benitez case herself. Of course, after Palmetto she knew her chances decreased but still…

Dan noticed her expression.

"Chloe, I know you had your own hopes connected to Benitez, but you must understand, that you won't be getting good cases if you do not show that you are a team player."  


"I thought it is about being a good cop, not a team player," retorted Chloe.  


Both," stressed Dan. "Besides – you won't get anything serious as long as you are working with this club manager," he pointed at Lucifer, who just walked into the precinct and made himself comfortable behind Chloe's desk. "He promised Monroe to help her in the elections, and she wants him safe and satisfied, as long as he likes to play a cop. And your role would be to babysit him."

"He is not playing. He is really helping," replied Chloe, but deep inside she knew, that Dan was right. No one would assign her to the serious case with the "civil consultant" as a partner. Absolutely unpredictable civil consultant.

"Listen, Dan," Chloe cleared her throat. It was not easy, but she had to swallow her pride and ask. "Would you take me to your team in Benitez case?"

Dan run his eyes aside. "Sorry. I chose the guys already. Look, it is not that I think you wouldn't cope, it would be just strange to work together now, with all this divorce stuff in the air... "

 _Right..._ Chloe nodded trying not to look too bitter and retreated to her desk.

While walking, she discreetly watched Lucifer, now rummaging through the drawers of her desk. Once again, she smiled at her previous doubts. Here, at the precinct, he looked perfectly normal. Well, a bit overdressed and handsome above average, but that was all. No shadows, no wrath, no red flickers. Just an eccentric man, perhaps a bit weird, but at the moment the only one at the precinct willing to work with her.

"Hi. You are an early bird today, " she smiled to welcome him.

"And you have a terribly boring desk, Detective," complained Lucifer. "I hoped you would be hiding some naughty stuff in the lowest drawer," he winked knowingly. "And what is this? The photo of this little monster of yours, to discourage you from going home too early? You should rather keep the photo of Detective Douche, as a reminder of how not to choose the man next time. "

"Yes. Whatever," Chloe absently shrugged her shoulders.

Noticing her dejection, Lucifer eyed her more cautiously. "I see that Detective Douche is boasting all-around about something in the most obnoxious way?"

"He got a good case," Chloe tried to appear oblivious.

"And what did we get?"

"Nothing interesting," Chloe shrugged her shoulders again and tried to smile. "I won't need you today. You have a day off."

"But you have something in this folder here," Lucifer pointed at the pile of documents she was keeping, trying to see the cover.

"It is really nothing," Chloe replied honestly. "Just a shop burglary. Crap case. It could only show you how tedious the police work usually is."

"I see," Lucifer sighed and nodded. "Tedious is not a feature I find alluring. Farewell then. There are indeed a few exciting places awaiting my presence."

He stood up and turned to exit. Chloe moved her attention to the workday ahead of her and started to arrange the papers on her desk when she heard him saying:

"Homicide."

She raised her head noticing that Lucifer is again standing over her with a questioning look on his face.

"Excuse me?"

"Homicide. You are in the homicide section. Why are you doing the burglary case?"

"Formally because there was a warning note left at the crime scene. Punishable threats," replied Chloe with a sour smile. "And practically because… well, they don't want to give me anything better."

"I see..." nodded knowingly Lucifer and smirked. "Everyone hates you for your Palmetto calamity, right? Even your douche-y ex?"

"Oh, just get lost!" muttered Chloe. Why had he always to be so blunt?

"Oh no, on the contrary. I have just decided I am going with you."

"Why? I told you it will be boring," Chloe gathered the papers, the badge and purse and looked around in search for the car keys.

"So, you will quickly do your boring case and then we will go and have some fun." Forestalling her protests, he added quietly. "Don't show them, they managed to make you feel shunned. It won't help if you hide in a corner to snivel."

"I do not hide and I do not snivel," Chloe replied angrily. She definitely didn't feel like 'having fun' in Lucifer's company - she even preferred not to ask what kind of fun he had in mind – but at the very same moment she saw Dan gathering a few men – probably his new 'case Benitez team'. They were laughing and preparing to leave the building. To have breakfast together? To celebrate future success? She would also like to be a part of the team. This team, or any other. However, things being as they were at the moment, she wasn't. And she didn't want to be alone.

"Fine. Let's go," she growled, heading to the elevator.

"That's the spirit. Head's up and smile," praised her Lucifer. "Appearances are not that heavy to bear. However," he added when they exited the building, "this time we are going in my car. I won't risk you leaving me alone at the end of the world again."

"So that you could leave me instead? No thank you."

"I won't, I promise. And I won't even be able to lock you in the car," he smirked. "There is no roof. Besides, I have better music."  
Chloe didn't reply. Her irritation grew again, as she saw Dan and his colleagues standing at the parking, talking. Dan looked at her and Lucifer and even in the distance, she saw the pity in his eyes. _I am loser, that's what he thinks. Loser at work, loser at home_ , Chloe thought with regret, that quickly gave place to anger. _To hell with it. No snivelling._ She raised her head and tried to smile.

"Let's hurry," she said to Lucifer. "The sooner we go the sooner we are done."

Lucifer followed her sight, looking at Dan and his friends, with such knowing expression as if he knew, what was happening in her head. For a moment she glared at him, daring him to comment, but he kept silent, only grinned as if saying" I am all in the game", and took her arm pulling her toward his Corvette. She let him because she noticed that Dan stopped laughing and now it was he who was following her with his eyes. When Chloe took her place in the car, Lucifer, with a truly devilish smirk on his face, leant over her correcting the seat belt, lingering for a moment in her personal space. Somehow, he managed to make this small gesture appear more intimate than the actual touch, and – however low it was – Chloe couldn't help but enjoy the perplexed expression on Dan's face.

Then engine started simultanously with the sounds of the song Lucifer chose and for a moment Chloe closed her eyes, enjoying this small victory and speed of the drive. If she wanted to keep appearances of having fun, she was certainly in a good company.

* * *

When they reached their destination – small family shop with herbal medicine – Chloe energetically pressed the ring.

A few times.

And no one answered.

Chloe felt intrigued. The owner was informed about their visit. Was the burglary so insignificant, that he forgot about the police? She had a hunch something else happened. She rang again, once more in vane.

"May I?" asked obligingly Lucifer, reaching for the doorknob. "Perhaps it was destroyed during the burglary."

"Go on," agreed Chloe looking around. She knew that it was much more likely that the lock would turn out to be broken if Lucifer was the one to check it.

"Here it is," her companion pushed the door open. "After you."

"Hello!" called Chloe entering the building. "We are…" the words died in her throat when she saw a motionless, bloodied body in the middle of the floor.

Her heart clenched with regret and compassion for another life that was ended prematurely in this town. She also immediately felt a pang of regret – perhaps if she came earlier this tragedy could have been avoided?

However, deep in her mind was also another thought, that she was very ashamed of and she would like to push it immediately aside – but of course, Lucifer had to shamelessly voice it aloud:

"It seems that your crap case has upgraded, Detective."

* * *

The forensic team arrived at the shop in less than an hour. Now they were bustling around, examining the body, taking photos of the crime scene. Lucifer was more interested in the wares that were sold in the shop, rummaging through the paper bags with herbs and jars with ointments. The forensics sent him angry glances, trying to take pictures of the shelves before he managed to rearrange them. Well, it was good enough he was not trampling the body.

"His name was Jeremy Mitchell," Chloe read the ID they found in the victim's pocket. "Jeremy Mitchell was the owner of the enterprise. He reported the burglary in the morning?..." She looked questioningly at the forensic specialist, who was leaning over the body.

"Not possible," one of them shook his head. "The guy was killed more than 8 hours ago. Definitely at night."

"So, when the burglary was reported, this man was already lying here, with this… something in his throat. What is it exactly? A knife? A cleaver?..." she took a closer look at the curved blade with two handles on both ends

"A herbal knife," the forensic technician pointed at the little table with a wooden board and several tools similar to the one that was still stuck in the victim's neck. "Such blades are used to chop herbs."

"So, the accidental tool. The murderer grabbed what was at hand. This would suggest the crime committed under strong emotions. Hey, are you listening?" she called to Lucifer, now looking through the crushed bottles on the floor.

"Amazing," sighed the consultant. "That was a very well equipped shop. They had things I haven't seen since decades, and certainly not on this continent." He kneeled on the floor and raised the shard of the broken jar, to examine whatever remained of its contents.

"Drugs?" asked Chloe, leaning to see it closer. She felt no smell, but her throat immediately started to scratch.

"Carefully, Detective," warned her Lucifer, putting the jar aside. "You might not want to inhale to much of this one. No, not exactly drugs. Not all of them at least," he smirked pointing at the jars on the counter. "These are more like toxins. Of natural origin, but still… Oh, and these men here might make use of their funny uniforms? You know, the ones with such stupid helmets, that make them look like crazy beekeepers?" he pointed casually at the forensics team, himself continuing the survey of the shelves.

The forensics team exchanged unsure glances.

"Put the safety uniforms on and search this place for the illegal substances," sighed Chloe. "Lucifer, unless you will put the uniform on yourself, you must leave this place." Seeing the well-known amusement appearing in his eyes, the detective added sharply. "We already established that you are not bulletproof, remember? I am not going to check whether you are poison resistant."

"And here I thought we were never to speak about it again," he chuckled. "I am certainly…" he started, but then reconsidered as if he reminded himself about something and stood up. "Fine. I'd rather bathe in toxins than put on something so ridiculous," he stated, leaving the shop with her, lingering only for a short moment by the jars at the counter.

 _Well, that was easy_ , thought Chloe with _surprise. Apparently, the incident with the bullet taught him something._

When they exited the shop, he stated with consideration: "The most interesting is who and why called the police. Our murderer? Acting under remorse, he could confess the killing… but the call was only about burglary? And the threatening note? Was it really there?"

"Yes, just at this rummaged table." Chloe pulled out the phone and showed him the photo of the note. Whoever saw the note, must have also seen the body," she added slowly.

" _Death's door is open_ ," read Lucifer aloud and started to laugh. "These are threats? More like some imbecile trying to write a poem."

"Not everyone is as good at threats as you," snorted Chloe, irritated. How could he always be so flippant, even with the victim's body still lying in the shop just behind their back? "However for the cops, this looks like threat enough."

"Yes, I am aware of your limitations," sighed Lucifer. "So, who benefits?"

So far, Chloe only managed to learn that Jeremy Mitchel had a wife. Probably, she was the one to inherit after him. Besides, the shop had two owners, the second one being his brother. That gave them, for the good beginning, two people to speak with. Of course, Lucifer immediately claimed the brother to be a potential perpetrator, transferring his own experiences with his complicated family to the case. Chloe wanted to mention something about the world not revolving about him but bit her tongue. He would probably prove otherwise.

"Still, we are to visit the wife first," she said only. "Let's…" her phone rang she picked up the call. After the short conversation, she sighed helplessly. Trixie's doctor rescheduled the visit. To be on time, she should pick up her from school immediately. That's why she should have taken her own car. Even if she asked Lucifer to drive her to school, they three wouldn't fit into his vehicle. Single mothers and Corvettes simply do not match.

Well, her child still had also the father. Let Mr-perfect cop-Espinoza do his job also in the family range.

To her surprise, Dan didn't protest and agreed to take Trixie to the doctor without any malicious comments. Apparently, the recent professional success made him eager to prove himself also as a father.

"I finished. Let's go to the wife," Chloe said to Lucifer, who looked at her expectantly as if demanding praise for waiting so patiently while she was dealing with her pesky family business. She glared at him sharply. "Oh, and whatever you snitched from this shop – do not take it at least until you are driving, ok? "

Lucifer's expression changed into the picture of hurt innocence and his hand with a little paper quickly dived back into his pocket.

* * *

The conversation with Dorothy Mitchell was a draining experience. She didn't know about her husband's death yet and Chloe hated to be the one bringing the relatives of the victim tragic information. It reminded her too much about her own loss, the death of her father. What's worse, this desperately crying and sobbing woman was also a potential suspect, and it was up to Chloe to observe and judge her reaction. It doubled her discomfort.

And simultaneously she had to keep in check Lucifer, whose growing impatience – and absolute insensibility to Dorothy's emotions – threatened he could say something absolutely uncouth.

Usually, Chloe didn't mind scolding him for his bigger and smaller transgressions. Most of the times, he obeyed and she started to treat it as proof of his respect. After all, it was obvious that he didn't have to, that he could follow his whims and get away with everything. And yet, he usually relented to her. Somehow, it warmed her heart.

Today, however, she was too distressed to have the patience for him. Dorothy was sobbing, bringing herself at the verge of hyperventilation, telling how wonderful man her husband was, and how she loved him.

Chloe patted her back and handed her one tissue after another, while simultaneously casting warning glances at Lucifer, who with obvious disgust tossed himself in the cosy living room.

"I wasn't worried when he didn't return home yesterday," confessed Dorothy. "I would have never thought something wrong happened. I just assumed he decided to stay at the shop overnight. Sometimes he used to do it, when there were a lot of orders… there is a small room at the back, with a bed in it."

"I bet he made use of it," commented Lucifer quietly, with a wink than made Chloe disgusted and angry. Using the moment, when Dorothy reached for another tissue, she looked at her partner and spoke voicelessly: 'Shut up'.

"We had so many plans…" sobbed the widow. "We wanted to visit my sister in Ontario… and he was to repair the porch… and… oh, Jeremy…"  
Lucifer swirled impatiently and rolled his eyes. Then he leaned over Dorothy and, intercepting her sight, asked, his voice now knowing and silky: "Tell, me Dorothy. What do you…"

"Oh no, no," interrupted him Chloe. "Dorothy, excuse us for a while." She pulled Lucifer to the adjacent room.

"Do not do this to her," she whispered angrily. She couldn't accept forcing this woman to lay her soul bare in the most tragic moment of her life. "There is no need."

"She is holding something back," whispered Lucifer, but stepped aside.  
Chloe returned to Dorothy and addressed the issue of wares that were sold in the shop.

"Mrs Mitchell, some of your products look like toxic extracts. Do you know whether some part of this merchandise was illegal?"

"Of course not!" exclaimed Dorothy. "Jeremy… imported extracts… and venoms for medical treatment and cosmetics… but all was legal. Here. " she handed Chloe a thick folder with documents. Then she took a breath, as if she was willing to say something else, and resigned, only repeated: "Everything is here." Having said that, she lowered her eyes to the floor.

At this moment Chloe knew Lucifer was right. Dorothy was hiding something.

She felt a gentle touch on her shoulder and raised the head to meet the questioning look of her partner. She knew what he was thinking about. Slightly, oh so slightly that she could pretend later to herself she didn't do it, she nodded.

"Dorothy," asked Lucifer quietly, yet in his voice was an irresistible pull. "What do you desire? What does such a decent wife of a respectable husband, living in such cosy nest at the suburbs want from life?"

"I wanted to age with Jeremy. Here, together," whispered Dorothy. "I wanted to have a nice, clean and safe house. And my husband, to be with me. I… I wanted to know him. All of him."

Chloe furrowed her eyebrows, hearing the last sentence.

"And?..." stressed Lucifer.

Something in Dorothy snapped.

"And I want that bitch out of his life," she spat and sobbed again, this time angrily.

"The bitch? He had a lover?" asked quietly Chloe.

"No," Dorothy sniffed her nose, wiped the tears out of her eyes and strengthened. Surprisingly, after the breakdown, she looked stronger. "I would prefer that. Margot, the woman who imported all this shit for him," she waved her hand toward the folder in Chloe's hand. "He was so… intrigued by her. I never fascinated him that much. I hate that bitch," repeated Dorothy with an empty glance.

* * *

"This case is getting more and more interesting, Detective," observed Lucifer on their way back. "The family store with exotic poisons. The owner reporting burglary when his earthly shell was already stiff and cold. Death's door nonsense note. And so far, we have three possible suspects. The grieving jealous widow, the bitch Margot and the brother.'

"It might have been someone else, out of the family circle. A competitor. A customer. We will check the books, but I am already certain that some part of this merchandise wasn't legal. Tomorrow we are going to visit Margot. Margot Jensen. I need to establish her address, but I hope to find it in these documents."

"Very well," agreed Lucifer parking in front of Chloe's house. "But my bet still goes to the brother. Goodbye, Detective," he smiled, driving away.

Chloe entered the house. Dan and Trixie were already at home, eating spaghetti for dinner. At this homely picture, her heart clenched painfully. A family. Why didn't they manage to build it? Why wasn't it enough, neither for her nor for Dan? Why weren't they like Dorothy Mitchell, who wanted only to get old with her husband?

"Hi," she said with a smile. "What did the doctor say?"

"The monkey is fine and healthy," Dan smiled back. "Listen, Chloe, I want to apologize for the morning. I didn't want to hurt you."

"That's fine. You were right. We shouldn't mix our problems with work," replied Chloe. She looked at Trixie, her little face all in tomato souce. Perhaps it could be enough. At the moment, she almost wanted it.

Dan watched her a bit unsurely. "Chloe, do you recall that barmaid from the LUX? Maze?"

"Yes," Chloe tensed immediately, torn from the contemplation of domestic bliss. "How do you know her?"

"I met her while I was checking the books of the LUX," replied Dan blushing terribly. Chloe didn't blame him. It would be hard to find anyone, no matter male or female, who wouldn't blush around Maze. "Anyway, she called you and said she wanted to apologize for some disagreement you had."

"I don't believe it," Chloe shook her head. "Maze does not do apologies."

"I don't know," Dan shrugged his shoulders. "She something about not knowing that you and Lucifer are going to work together. I guess she just wants to clear the air. Look, she invited us to the LUX tomorrow, they are doing some blues evening. It is going to be calmer than usual and classy. She said we would like it."

At first, Chloe felt a sting of regret, that Lucifer didn't mention anything about blues evening. Damn, she wouldn't mind him inviting her!... But Maze? Why did she do it, why specifically did she invite her and Dan, as if they were still together? Then she realized that Dan probably just answered her home call and Maze extended the invitation. Well, that was awkward. They didn't date anymore.

"Would you come?" asked Dan, sounding suddenly very unsure.

Chloe looked at him, and at Trixie, looking from her to Dan… Was there some shadow of hope in her brown eyes?

"Yes, why not," she replied, clearing her throat to sound more casual. "Tomorrow, right? It can be fun."


	3. The realm of illusion

"And there it is: the house of the bitch Margot," announced Lucifer, when on the next day they arrived at the address of Jeremy Mitchell's exotic toxins provider. "Just how disappointing, it does not look bitchy at all."

It was a modest house with a nicely trimmed lawn and few pink flowers at the porch, rows of other identical houses stretched as far as they could see. Chloe thought it must be one of these communities, where the representatives of the neighbours visit you asking to order the yard or change the curtains if you chose too extravagant ones.

She was already halfway to the door when she noticed that her partner was not following her, only looking around with unusual concentration.

"There is something about this place I do not like," he stated.

Chloe chuckled. "I cannot imagine you could actually like anything about it. Such a tidy suburb nest is contradictory to your nature."

"Oh, no," her partner replied pensively. "What troubles me is that…foul stench of home-sweet-home I feel in the air."

Chloe furrowed her eyebrows. The air was fresh and brisk, she definitely felt no smell. She shrugged her shoulders and proceeded to walk toward the door. However, Lucifer outmarched her in a flash, using this special speed of his, and rang the doorbell himself. Once they waited for the answer, he didn't budge from the door, forcing her to wait behind his back.

"Hey," she reminded him quietly. "In case of troubles, you can do the talking, but I do the fighting, right?"

He didn't answer, only impatiently rang again.

"Come in! It is open!" called sing-song woman's voice inside the house.

Lucifer reached for the door handle and opened the door, still not letting Chloe step ahead of him. The detective tiptoed, trying to see over his shoulder.

Once the door opened, she saw a homely corridor and, in a distance of few steps, a middle-age, sleek dark-haired woman. She smiled at them friendily, but then her sight transfixed to Lucifer, the eyes widening with sudden horror.

"Oh, no," she gasped and fell on her knees. "My Lord!..."

"Bloody hell!" yelled Lucifer and stepped into the house, slamming the doors behind himself inches from Chloe's face.

"Fuck!" hissed Chloe. "No kidding. Not again!" She struggled with the doors, but of course, they were locked now.

There were many things she disapproved about Lucifer and a few that literally drove her mad, but the worst of the worst was his habit to leave her out of the scene now and then.

She looked around. The windows were securely curtained. She could try the backdoor, but so far she had no reason to break into the house of this woman. She rang the bell again, a few times, muttering silent curses at Lucifer. She was about to yell when the door opened and Lucifer invited her inside as if nothing happened.

"I am sorry, Detective. It turned out that our Margot is an old friend of mine. I was surprised," he said only.

"You cannot behave like this," she replied angrily, but left the reprimand for later, not wanting to quarrel in front of Margot Jensen.

While following their hostess to the living room, Chloe observed her discreetly. Mrs Jensen was slim and elegant and moved with grace and charm. There was something unsettling, but alluring in her bearing. All in all, she was a kind of women against whom someone like Dorothy Mitchell could not stand a chance.

Apart from that, at the moment Margot Jensen looked terrified, her face ashen pale and voice stuttering, far from the merry greeting they heard through the door. She invited them to sit but didn't join them, only kept standing in some distance.

Was it because of Lucifer? Chloe cast a quick glance at her partner. They used to meet his ex-friends here and there before, but they always seemed to remain on good terms and behave with undisturbed ease. And here – Margot Jensen was scared to death and Lucifer was obviously sulking, sitting down on the armchair with folded hands and crossed legs, irritated, as if he was reminded of something very unpleasant.

"I know that Jeremy is dead," started Ms Jensen quietly. "His wife called me. However, I do not know who could have done it.

"Could you tell us about your relations?" asked Chloe. "The wares you imported?"

"I imported for him vegetable extracts and animal venoms from South America," replied Margot with a gentle, but shivering voice. She kept her sight transfixed to Lucifer, who, on his side, had he eyes only for his cufflinks, correcting them to perfection. "He used them to produce cosmetics and medical supplements. Apart from that, we were friends."

"Friends?" repeated Chloe, observing the women carefully. Having difficulties with catching eye contact while Margot kept standing on the other side of the room, she proposed: "Ms Jensen, would you please sit down with us?"

"I… I am not..." stuttered the women unsurely.

"Just sit," snarled Lucifer and Margot cautiously sat on the couch in front of them, her pose far from relaxed.

For a moment Chloe wanted to address the situation and claim explanations, but there was something so discouraging in Lucifer's demeanour at the moment that she decided to postpone it.

"We were friends. I knew that his wife was jealous of the time he spent with me, but I found it amusing. He… was interested in me and my life. He liked to hear about my travels," said Margot. At her last words, Lucifer shifted, raising his eyebrow, and Mrs Jensen added hastily: "My travels to South America and China, only that, I swear."

"I see," sighed Chloe. Margot Jensen seemed to be an egoistic woman, who turned Jeremy's head and found entertainment in his wife's despair, but did she have the motive to kill him? "What have you been doing in the night two days ago?"

"I was on a plane, returning from Manaus."

Chloe mentally crossed Ms Jensen from the suspects' list. Flight alibi was unquestionable, could be confirmed by flight details, boarding card and airport monitoring.

"Let's return to your business," she tried the last thread. "You and Mitchell were dealing with dangerous substances. Was it all legal?"

"Yes," came the immediate answer. A bit too quick. Chloe looked at Lucifer searching his opinion.

"If Margot says so, it is true," the man observed casually. "Margot wouldn't like to lie to us, would you, my Dear?"

Margot somehow got even paler than before.

"Whatever I am importing and selling is legal," she replied quickly "However, I know that Jeremy sold some of it off the books. Have you heard about Campu? It is the venom of the Amazonian frog."

"It is illegal?" surprised Lucifer. "It kicks just fine… or so I heard," he added seeing Chloe's face.

"Depends on how you use it," replied Margot. "Jeremy got contacted by the group off… they said they were practising alternative medicine, but in fact, they were just a bunch of quacks. They gave Campu to the people searching for… oh, you know, regaining inner equilibrium, clearing of minds and bodies… the kind of the New Age talk for the overworked uptowns. It sells well. Campu is said to help. To regain energy, purge organism. So, it does kick. But, you have to be careful, it is a toxin after all. It can kill when used carelessly. And these people bought really huge quantities. I am sure they didn't observe safety procedures."

"Why?"

"Because they insisted on keeping everything off the books. No records of the transaction. Jeremy just gave them the wares and received payment in cash."

"Right," nodded Chloe. Well, that was finally something. Chloe's mind quickly worked on the hypothesis. Perhaps the quacks were greedy and overdid, perhaps someone died, Jeremy got scared, wanted to report it… "What's the name of this company?"

"I do not know, really," Margot shook her head, looking at Lucifer quite pitifully. "They never told. When we had the fresh shipment, Jeremy contacted them and handed it over."

Chloe considered it for a moment when a certain idea struck her. "You have just returned from Manaus, so it means that they may expect a new shipment."

"Yes," Margot nodded.

"Do you know how Jeremy contacted them?"

"I have a phone number," Margot checked her phone and noted the number on the piece of paper.

"Great," smiled Chloe. Well, whatever was between this woman and Lucifer, it clearly helped. People involved in shady deals rarely were so helpful and Margot didn't utter even one word about the lawyer.

"Well thank you, Ms Jensen," Chloe nodded, standing up. "I may call you later, to ask further questions."

Ms Jensen also stood up and straightened, all uptight again.

"I told you I am on vacation," Lucifer shrugged his shoulders. " Just behave, my Dear."

Once they left the house, Chloe threw a quick glance back and saw Margot slumping down on the couch with immense relief washing down her face.

"Are you sure that she was not lying?" asked Chloe when they were heading toward the car. "Or that she won't warn these Campu traders that we are searching for them?"

"Oh, no. Rest assured she was honest with us," nodded Lucifer.

"Fine. Because I am thinking about going undercover."

"Lovely!" pleased Lucifer. "Do I get to be uptown overworked businessman searching for inner equilibrium?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. She could not imagine Lucifer looking overworked. "No. We will take a more forward approach. I will be pretending to speak in the name of Jeremy Mitchell and make an appointment to hand over the new shipment. Now, would you explain, what was this all about?" once they got into the car, the detective turned to her partner to address the issue of his strange behaviour. "You leaving me off the scene – again, this woman so terrified that she didn't want to sit in your presence? Why? I thought you part with you ex'es on good terms."

"I am sorry," sighed Lucifer. "She just reminded me of things I do not like to think about. You see… I knew Margot before I came to Los Angeles. Margot is not my ex. She was… working for me but left. I guess I wasn't the only one who was fed up with that place," he snorted mockingly. "Anyway, in those days I didn't… approve of desertion and in fact, I have been searching for her for a while. So," he hesitated slightly and grimaced, "she might have had reasons to be scared. However, in the meantime, as you know – I had enough and went on vacation. And Margot behaves, so I just let her be."

"Riight," nodded slowly Chloe. She didn't get it. They what, 'worked' together? Before he came to Los Angeles? "But you say that before the LUX you were…"

"Yes, in Hell, right," sighed Lucifer impatiently. "Margot is a demon, like Maze. But I told you, she behaves well and from now she will be even more cautious knowing I am near, so…"

"Ok. Don't want, don't tell," replied angrily Chloe. She could have understood his reluctance to tell her about his past if it was connected to some mafia-type organization, but she was getting tired of these supernatural stories. Did they involve other people than Lucifer and his bodyguard barmaid? Maze at least looked somehow… demonic, whereas Margot was neat and sleek even if a bit unsettlingly attractive, just like… like Lucifer.

Chloe shook her head, dismissing this notion. She already followed this thread of thoughts once, it ended in her shooting her partner to check his immortality. Never again.

The rest of their way to the precinct Chloe drove in silence. She intended to ask Lucifer about this blues evening that was to take place in the LUX that evening, but, irritated at the scene in Margot Jensen's house and the vague explanations she received from Lucifer, she decided not to mention it. He had his secrets, she could have her life. And this time it meant she was going to have a date with her half-ex husband, who had his vices, but people didn't get ashen-face and fall on their knees at the sight of him.

* * *

Maze didn't lie, at least not about the Blues Evening in the LUX. For a while, Chloe feared that the barmaid wanted to mock her and after arriving at the club she and Dan would come across some extremely loud and obscene party. However, that was not the case. The place was not as crowded as usual, lights – dimmed and the dancing girls, clothed in sequin dresses that covered much more than usual, were simply sitting at the bar.

The singer, a small woman with an amazing voice was accompanied by some young pianist Chloe didn't recognize. She felt a sting of disappointment. Why did Lucifer let someone else touch his piano?

"Hi," she said to Dan, who was already waiting for her on their table, with a glass of water in the hand. Maze booked them a really nice place, a booth, where they could watch the show but still enjoy the privacy. "How was the day?"

"I am glad you could make it," replied Dan, smiling to her. "You look lovely."

Well, she did took some time this evening in front of the mirror. However, Dan's compliment helped little to ease the disappointment she still felt… no matter. Chloe shook her head and, as usual, decided to address frankly the issue.

"Dan, why are we doing this? I mean…" she got interrupted by Maze, who approached them with two lovely looking cocktails on a tray.

"On the house. Have fun," she said, evidently trying to sound less curt than usual, but then left before Chloe managed to reply. The detective looked behind her with surprise. Apparently, the barmaid was trying to be nice. This invitation, the drinks – that was probably the closest thing to apology Maze could offer. Perhaps she really wanted to clear the air.

Chloe sipped her cocktail and it tasted divine.

"Anyway," she looked at Dan again, "I'd like to know why are we doing this," she repeated. "If we are just meeting to have a drink and talk, that's fine. It is nice. But if we are to… try to mend… something between us… I need to think it over."

Dan for a moment started at his nails and when he raised the eyes to her again, he looked utterly vulnerable. Chloe knew it was one these moments when he opened up, putting his pride and resentment aside.

"I think I got jealous," he confessed.

"Jealous? Really?" laughed Chloe and sipped the drink again. It was wonderful, not too sweet, not too dry and she felt as it warmed her in a very pleasurable way.

"Yes," sighed Dan. "When I thought you would be now meeting with the other guys…"

Chloe shook her head in protest. "I am not meeting anyone… yet," she added with a chuckle. Her fingertips brushed the surface of the table, drawing a small circle. She shook her head again, this time to regain the clarity of thought. Was she flirty? With Dan? But she felt so nice and warm…

"But you could. It has already been some time since we separated… So I thought that before you meeting someone that turns your head and sweeps you off your feet," Dan smirked unsurely, "we should at least try… whether we learnt anything. We had ups and downs, but there was a time when it used to be good, wasn't it, Chlo?" He looked at her shyly and Chloe thought, that if he had more often been like this, so open and caring, things indeed could be better between them.

 _But he hadn't_ , whispered her voice of reason, trying to get through that warm haze she was drifting in, _he was self-centred, presuming and always putting his career first, and so he will be until he gets a serious kick from life that would finally teach him something the hard way… but do I want to wait until then?_

Hesitating, Chloe sipped more of her drink. Well, perhaps it all made no sense, but still… it was such a nice evening. She felt so good. Dan was ok. Why shouldn't they spend some time together?

"Tell me about your new case," she said, knowing that this is exactly what he wanted to hear. "Any progress?"

Dan beamed and started to talk.

Chloe would lie saying she listened to his every word. To tell the truth, she barely paid attention. However, Dan was so excited, so eager to share… For once, she didn't mind smiling to him and nodding, if he enjoyed it so much. The haze around her was like a snug blanket wrapped over her shoulders, making her feel warm and safe.

And then the music changed. Chloe was now sitting with her back to the piano and didn't see the new pianist, but she immediately knew that it was him. The performance of the previous guy was good, but now the music was simply… haunting. As if someone was playing on emotions, instead of the keys of the piano. She sighed and closed her eyes, wanting this moment to last as long as possible, this 'knowing' it was him just by his music, without actually seeing him…

"Hey, your consultant is doing a performance," observed casually Dan and for a second Chloe hated him for breaking the spell. "The guy is actually pretty good with the piano."

"Yes," replied Chloe only. Something in her expression must have unsettled Dan because he leant toward her and said:

"Chloe, I wanted to speak with you about him too. I need to warn you. Do you know that this guy literally didn't exist five years ago? He appeared just like that, from nowhere. Be careful."

"Oh, that's pretty obvious he changed his name," bridled Chloe, the warm haze around her dispersed a little, "it is not illegal. He must have simply started then to build this story of his, that's all."

"If someone changes the name, it is usually easy to trace the previous one," Dan shook his head. "Look, I know that we checked him and everything seems fine, but there is no previous trace of him. No schools, no accounts, even no medical care."

"From what I heard his family was a bit strange. Perhaps they stayed out of the system and didn't use standard medical care, you know, like Amish…"

"Yeah," Dan snorted sceptically. "because he is so Amishy…"

Chloe finally moved and turned to look at the piano. Lucifer was now accompanying the new singer, her dark red dress matching the burgundy of his shirt. The girl stood much closer to the piano than usual, leaning over the black shiny wood. They looked perfect together. Impressive. Like sin and temptation in one.

Then Lucifer raised his head looking around the room and for a second their eyes met. Chloe suddenly felt very unsure, the snug haze turning into something dark and cold. She tried to smile to him and waved in a greeting, but he didn't smile back.

Discouraged, she reached for the remains of her cocktail.

"Have you seen Trixie's ecology project?" asked Dan, unaware of Chloe's emotions. "The compost container?"

"Seen? I smelled it first!" chuckled Chloe. Her thoughts run to her daughter and all things were becoming safe and simple again. "I almost threw it away, before I realized it was a school project."

For a moment they talked about Trixie. It was nice to simply enjoy being parents again. In the last weeks, they only quarrelled about her, throwing accusations at each other. Now they agreeably talked about their little girl, recalling all these witty and cute things she said, and praising how clever she was and Chloe felt so warm inside…

It helped, that the haunting music stopped as Lucifer quite quickly made a break from playing. Chloe thought he would come and greet them, but he didn't, engaging instead in some heated discussion with Maze at the bar counter. Whatever, thought Chloe and reached for her glass again, with disappointment noticing it was empty.

"You can take mine if you want," Dan pushed his glass toward her. Chloe saw with surprise it was still full and Dan was sipping only water all the time.

"You are not drinking?"

"I cannot," Dan shook his head. "I told you I have an appointment with Benitez tonight," he looked at his watch. "In fact, I should soon be going."

Did he really tell her he had a meeting tonight? Chloe rubbed her forehead. Perhaps he did. She didn't listen much, giving herself to the snug mood of the evening.

"Can't you stay a bit longer?" she asked. "I know, it is Benitez, but…"

"No," Dan shook his head. "You know, Chlo, we are meeting undercover. He is still working with the dealers. It is not safe and easy for him. If he wanted to speak with me, it must be important. But I will drive you back home."

Chloe considered it for a moment, swallowing another disappointment. At some point during this evening, she was ready to let Dan drive her home… and stay there till morning. Yet if he was not going to stay…

"Thank you, but that's not necessary. Perhaps I will stay here a bit longer. Trixie is sleeping out with Maggie anyway, so I do not have to hurry," she said trying to sound oblivious. However, when Dan already stood up, something forced her to touch his hand. "Dan… Are you sure that you have to go?..."

Somehow she felt it is very important that he would stay. That this could change something. Start or prevent. What's happening to me? Chloe rubbed her forehead again, trying to concentrate. This warm haze around her…

Whatever it was, Dan didn't get it. "I am sorry," he said only. "But it was a good evening, wasn't it? See you tomorrow."

Once she was alone, Chloe for a moment hid the face in her hands to calm herself before leaving. She should understand. Benitez was important. If there was a need, Dan had to meet him. During her relationship with Dan dozens of their meetings were interrupted by their duties, both his and her. And still, somehow, she hoped that this evening would turn out differently.

"And who would say this evening would turn out so lovely?..." sounded a well-known British accent over her head. Chloe raised her head to see Lucifer with the glass of amber liquid in his hand.

 _Now he comes_ , she thought almost reluctantly, but she couldn't deny the wave of excitement that washed over her at his sight. The colours around her suddenly became more bright. The sounds more clear. No, she wasn't feeling safe anymore. But she felt so… alive.

"Your evening perhaps," she replied, trying to sound casual. "My date didn't, despite the good beginning."

"That's what I am speaking about," Lucifer grinned merrily. "So, tell me," he asked, sitting by her side.

Usually, if Chloe was searching for the supportive soul to confide her marriage problems, Lucifer would be the last choice, but now, despite her better judgement, the haze encouraged her to be open.

"Dan left for work," she shrugged her shoulders. "Our marriage failed because work was more important. Here we are, in one last try…. And he goes to work…" she chuckled, because suddenly she found it not sad, but amusing.

"Well, they say that third time is a charm, but I do not think it is worth giving Detective Douche the third chance. The man is impressively consistent," observed Lucifer casually and looked at Dan's cocktail. "The Douche didn't drink it?"

Something in his voice put Chloe at alert, ripping through this warm curtain of comfort that seemed to vail her mind.

"Did Maze put something into my drink?" she asked sharply, standing up. "Because if she did, I swear…"

"Oh, no, no, nothing," calmed her Lucifer, quickly reaching for her to sat her back at the sofa. "At least nothing you would believe in," he added after the moment of hesitation. "You do not believe in spells, Detective, right?"

"What? No," snapped Chloe, still angry, but somehow distracted, because when he touched her shoulder the snug curtain of haze turned into flames.

"So, you see… Maze was only trying to… enhance the mood so that you would have a good time together," Lucifer stated serenely.

"So what did she think she was doing, some fucking love potion?" snorted Chloe. "She thought that if Dan drank it he would love me again?"

Lucifer's expression became serious, even a bit solemn when he replied. "There is no force either in this world or in other dimensions, no matter below or under it, that could force one being to love another. However, Maze knows means to… well, build the atmosphere, at least for a few hours," he smirked but his smile faded when he added: "I guess that if your Douche drank it, he wouldn't want to leave this place without you."

"You do not know him," Chloe shook her head, trying not to laugh. "There is no force in any dimension that could make him put something ahead of his job," she mimicked Lucifer's serious expression. There really must have been something in her drink, because after the first outburst she didn't feel angry at the barmaid anymore, only slightly irritated. _What a stupid idea, that an hour or two of the 'good mood' could build the relationship. It requires years of good and bad, day by day standing by each other's side in the daily routine and sometimes even this is not enough_ , she thought hazily, _or it happens just like that when someone promises you that he won't let you die, and it is done, the choice is made…_ She felt a little dizzy and struggled to concentrate and think soberly.

"Well, tell Maze to stop playing at the marriage counsellor. This evening was nice but I am afraid that there are not enough shards left from my marriage to glue them together into something whole again."

If she expected some understanding – or compassion – after this confession, she chose the wrong interlocutor. Lucifer only smiled, flashing his white teeth.

"Lovely," he commented with satisfaction, but after a while added more seriously. "But for the sake of the full honesty, I must explain that Maze doesn't care a bit about your marriage. Her…joke was on me. For you and Dan to have fun and for me – to show me, what I won't have. And where I do not belong. To show me my place," he stressed and for a moment a frown twisted his features.

Though Chloe was not certain, what he was referring to, she felt sting of sympathy that must have shown on her face, because Lucifer added quickly with laughter: "Oh, but don't worry for me, Detective. I am the rebel, I never used to stay long in my place," he grinned, sending her the most rakish smile, that made that invisible, but perceptible haze around her swirl like flames again.

"I could now turn the joke on Maze and drink it myself," he added lightly, playing with Dan's drink. "However, it would last no more than a few hours, and a few hours is definitely too little to consort with such unique women, like you, Detective. Besides, I feel obliged to treat the matter of the free will as the unquestionable imperative," he sighed almost with regret.

Chloe shook her head. He switched too quickly between bitterness and amusement, between metaphors and confessions. She was getting lost.

"Would you play again tonight?" she asked simply and her question evidently pleased him.

"Yes, with pleasure, if you would be listening," he replied with a smile.

"I'd love to," Chloe smiled back.

The rest of the evening she spent sitting in her lodge unbothered by anyone, listening to him playing, letting her thoughts and emotions float freely carried by the music.

And yes, she had to admit that evening turned out… just lovely.


	4. The devil's playground

On the next Chloe started work early, beginning with the phone calls, making use of the number Margot gave her. The man on the other end of the line was a bit surprised hearing her voice, but apart from that – eager to collect the fresh shipment of Campu. They agreed to meet in the evening in the place pointed by Chloe – the empty warehouse that she knew once had visual monitoring. Then, there was so much she had to do, starting with arrangements with surveillance technicians, to launch the cameras in the warehouse, and to prepare the wiretapping for herself… Then she had to call Margot Jensen once again, to speak with her about some details connected to Cumbo… and no, during this conversation she wasn't going to think about Lucifer's words concerning this woman. Demon. From Hell. Right. Probably this was the metaphore for some kinky sex club and she really didn't want to know the details. It was enough, that Margot was cooperative.

All in all, Chloe's morning had been so busy, she didn't have time to be concerned with her personal issues.

"Hi," welcomed Dan, when he finished meetings with his team. "How are you? It was nice yesterday, wasn't it? We should repeat it one day."

"Yes… Well, let me think about it," replied Chloe unsurely. She had surprisingly vague memories of the previous evening, recalling only that she was having fun, music was wonderful and she should never trust Maze. Specific details were out of her reach, even if she was certain that she didn't drink much.

"Are you angry at me for leaving? Sorry once again. You know that Benitez must sneak out for each talk. He risks a lot. If his dealers learnt he is our informer…."

"It is risky for you as well," Chloe froze, taken by a sudden thought. "In the case of a foulup you would also be the target. Perhaps… perhaps you should limit your time with Trixie for a while?" It was not an easy thing to say and on Dan's face immediately assumed a hurt expression.

"That's not necessary," he stated stiffly. "I would know if someone targeted me. Being a detective doesn't mean I cannot be a father. Don't worry, I have it all covered."

"Pride," observed causally Lucifer, nearing to them. "It is one of the Seven."

Dan frowned but Chloe quickly started to relate to Lucifer the details of their undercover mission. Lucifer listened carefully and Dan moved aside to look through the files.

"This group is a key to Mitchell's illegal businesses, which might have led to his death," concluded Chloe. "So, the more we manage to learn about them, the better."

"And what if he was killed by the same people we are meeting?" asked Lucifer. "They would know it is a trap."

"I think I was vague enough while talking with them," replied Chloe. "I only said I am calling from Mitchell's shop. If it turns out they knew about his death I can tell them I was sent by the new owner... and even so, try to loosen their tongues."

"Speaking of the new owner, what about Mitchell's brother?" inquired Lucifer. "Somehow I think he is the more likely suspect."

"Tomorrow," nodded Chloe. "But I made some research already and there is nothing to confirm your hunch. He had no criminal records and the brothers were in good, even if distant, relations."

"There is this warning note," reminded her Lucifer. "Death's door – siblings. Quite obvious association."

Chloe couldn't help but snort with laughter. She would never get the British sense of humour, but the best part in Lucifer's jokes was his serious expression.

"There is no association…" she started, when Dan turned back from the file cabinet and called to Lucifer:

"Death's Door? Pal, I know you are indulging yourself, but don't take this shit. It is a really nasty staff. Fries your brain, literally."

For a moment, both Chloe and Lucifer froze, staring at Dan.

"What are you talking about?" asked Chloe.

Dan shrugged his shoulders. "I heard you were speaking about the Death's Door." Seeing from Chloe's expression that she still did not understand, he added: "This new drug. Shit, really. Two kids are already in the hospital, in a coma. Unlikely that they will make it."

"I told you it didn't look like the warning note!" exclaimed triumpantly Lucifer, while Chloe quickly searched for the photo of the note they found in the Mitchell's shop.

All three read it together once again. Death's door is open.

"It might be a threat," admitted slowly Dan, "But it also may refer to the drug. 'Is open' like 'is released', 'is available' or something of similar meaning. Anyway, Chlo, I think it is a reason enough for you to pass the case to the drug section."

"No way!" Chloe gasped with indignation. "It is my case and I am not going to resign from it just because it got more interesting. And thank you for believing in me, Dan," she added sarcastically.

Dan looked at her with discomfort. "I do not question your competences, Chloe. However, it might be something big. You would need more backup."

Chloe bit her lip. There was some grain of truth in Dan's words. However, if she passed the case now, before making any significant progress in the investigation, she would be moved away from it. And this case was an unexpected, but very welcome chance to redeem herself after her 'Palmetto calamity', as Lucifer called it. She didn't want to lose it.

"I will decide after this undercover we are doing tonight," she said finally. "So far, I have it all under the control."

Dan looked as if he wanted to argue, but then only threw his arms in the air in a gesture of surrender.

"Fine. It is your case," he muttered and added sneeringly, turning to Lucifer: "No remark about pride this time, Wisehead?"

"The detective is right. It is not pride only a correct assessment of the situation," the consultant replied smoothly. "You see, pal," he accented and concluded with his trademark smirk "she will be with me."

* * *

And yet, to Chloe's surprise, when they were driving on the evening to their meeting point, Lucifer stated with consideration:

"Detective, as much as I am disgusted with it, I must admit that the Douche might have been right about this case being potentially too dangerous. So, I have an idea. I will go there and talk with our 'customers'. And you may go home," he concluded.

Chloe parked the car in the back alley near the warehouse, put out the engine and stared at him in disbelief.

"What? So you can spend some time with your hellish little spawn," Lucifer shrugged his shoulders. "Well, go away."

"Have you gone mad? Or did you snack some of Margot's Campu in the meantime?" asked Chloe quite rudely.

Yes, in the little metal container they had original toxin brought by Ms Jensen. She didn't mind entrusting them with the whole shipment, to make their undercover work more credible.

"Look, Detective, I think I proved already I am perfectly capable of talking to people. The risk might be bigger than you assessed, so…"

"That's exactly why I will be going," said Chloe, but added gently, to soften her refusal: "You are extremely good at making people open to you, I still have no idea how you are doing this, but we both know you are terrible at being undercover. Everything in you simply is shouting that… you are you!" she laughed and Lucifer also smiled, evidently flattered. "And you do not look like the employee of the family herbal store. They do not wear Armani, you know."

"I can change," offered Lucifer with a painful expression.

"No time for that. Anyway, if these people saw you, they would simply run away and we wouldn't learn anything. I am going, end of the discussion," Chloe shook her head and started to correct the wiretapping under her blouse. "Excuse me, would you mind turning back?" she snapped, seeing him shamelessly staring at her.

"Yes, definitely," replied Lucifer, but obediently turned back. "So, what am I to do?"

"You will wait here, having my back."

"And where in it is the fun for me?" pouted the consultant.

"You will save my life if the things go awry," joked Chloe, but Lucifer found this answer satisfactory enough, nodding with a smile.  
The detective finished correcting the wires, put the jacket on and reached for the container from Margot Jensen.

"Look, the patrol is checking the area, waiting for our call and trying to track their cars. Give me twenty minutes," said Chloe. "If I don't return in this time – and only on this condition - you may go and search for me. In case of bigger problems, do not interfere, but call for backup. Is that clear?"

"Yes," confirmed Lucifer and commented with a sly smirk: "I like when you are so bossy."

Chloe closed her eyes and counted to ten. Well, if bossy was what he liked, bossy he would get.

"How long do you have to wait?" she asked sharply.

"Twenty minutes."

"So could you check the watch?" seethed Chloe and when he ostentatiously raised the hand showing her some probably ridiculously expensive watch on his wrist, nodded: "Thank you."

Taking deep breaths to calm and concentrate, she left the car and walked toward the warehouse.

* * *

When she entered the warehouse, she took a while to look around the dimly lit space. It was empty except some old pallets and barrels placed in the middle. She quickly spotted a movement behind one of them.

"Hello! I am here!" she called aloud and raised Margot's container to show it to the 'customers'.

Two men moved from the shadow of the pallet heap and Chloe made few steps in their direction, eyeing them carefully. One of them was young, the other – a bit older. They were wearing jeans and hoodies. They looked shabby and a bit dirty. _Not like healers offering inner purge for the overworked uptowns,_ thought Chloe, _rather like common dealers._

"Who are you and where is Mitchell?" asked one of the men.

After a short consideration, Chloe decided to play bald.

"Mitchell is dead," she said shortly. "I am working for the new owner."

The surprise on their faces convinced her they didn't know about Mitchell's death. Well, at least one question was answered. However, she felt that his death was somehow connected with his off-the-books transactions. She only had to find a connection.

"The new owner? His wife?" asked one of them uncertainly. "How does she know… about us?"

"Not my business," Chloe shrugged her shoulders. "I am just the messenger." Lack of information forced her to improvise. "She is willing to continue the cooperation on the similar conditions, but she wants some details on whom she is dealing with."

The men looked at themselves and then, one reached into his pocket. For a second she feared he would retrieve the gun, but he only took out a leaflet.

"She may visit us tomorrow," said the man, holding out the leaflet to Chloe.

Stupefied, Chloe neared to them and took the leaflet. It was pinkish, all in flowery design and announced the services of some beauty salon, that promised exotic treatments for rejuvenation and stress release. Chloe immediately felt that the men were lying and salon on the leaflet had nothing to do with their activities. They wanted to close the transaction and leave.

"So, the price as usual?" as if confirming her suspicions, the man pointed at her container and took out a thick pile of banknotes.

Chloe hesitated. The backup patrol was checking the area, once the men left the warehouse, they would be followed. The illegal transaction would be enough to arrest them and their associates and ask all the necessary questions at the precinct. However, there was some risk that the men would evade the patrol and lose the pursuit. In such case, she would waste the trail without obtaining any important information.

She took the decision.

"One more thing," she said decisively. "The Death's Door."

It seemed that by saying these words she pushed some magic button. The men's faces changed immediately, twisting with shock and anger. Their glances moved from her to somewhere over her right shoulder. She heard some movement behind her and started to turn, following their sight, but then the pain exploded in her skull and the world went black.

* * *

She woke up in the ambulance. Her head was splitting with pain, but her senses quickly snapped and she recalled all the events before her black-out. Realising that the ambulance was still standing in front of the warehouse, she tried to sit up. Her movement called the attention of the man standing in front of the ambulance. When he turned back, she recognized Dan.

"Chloe!" he cried with relief. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, I think," she stated unsurely still a bit dazed. "What happened?"

"The men you were meeting knocked you down and ran away," explained Dan. "Lucifer found you." He took her hand and sighed. "Chloe, I go back on each bad word I told about him. I didn't think he was able to play by the rules, but he was, he did everything by the book, no weird tricks. He found you, called us, and waited by your side until the backup came. It is good you have a partner having your back."

"Yes," nodded Chloe and looked around, trying to peep out of the ambulance. "Where is he?" She wanted to thank Lucifer as soon as possible, he deserved it, especially after the sharp conversation they had at the parking.

"This girl, Maze, came for him and they left together."

"Ah." The disappointment was so strong, that for a moment it jammed the pain in her head. Of course, why should he wait? She must have been out for a good hour, or more. He did his job and left to his life. "And these men from the warehouse? Did you manage to track them?"

"Yes," nodded Dan. "Two are already caught and the third one is being tracked down. It is a matter of hours until we get him."

"I saw only two of them," Chloe shook her head and grimaced at the new wave of pain. "But the third one must have hit my head. Dan, they must have something to do with the Death's Door. That drug you mentioned. They got aggressive when I mentioned it," excited with the progress in the investigation, she started to stand up, but Dan stopped her.

"No, you might have a mild concussion. They will take you to the hospital, but if everything is fine, they will let you go home in a few hours. Don't worry, I will take care of Trixie."

* * *

Chloe hated hospitals, but luckily, this time she didn't have to stay long. After the checkup and a few excruciatingly boring hours of waiting, she was allowed to return to her own house. She slept a bit longer than usual and when she appeared at the precinct, it was already filled with people.

In hope to see Lucifer, the detective quickly dismissed colleagues asking for her health and strode to her desk. However, instead of the consultant, she found there Dan, looking at her with a strange expression.

"I called the LUX and told Lucifer you would meet him straight in front of the house of Mitchell's brother," he said, replying her unspoken question. "Chloe, I need to show you something. Your partner didn't do things by the book after all."

Chloe looked at the video displayed at the screen of her computer. The screen was divided into four windows, three of them showing the neighbourhood and entrances to the warehouse she chose for her yesterday's undercover action. The last window showed the recordings from the camera situated inside the warehouse.

"Well, somehow, that does not surprise me," she sighed. "Let's see."

Chloe presses the 'play' button and speeded the recording to the moment when she saw herself nearing to the entrance of the warehouse. Then she set the video on the normal speed.

On the very same moment when she was entering the warehouse - her figure disappearing from the recording on the outside camera and appearing on the video taken inside the building - she saw Lucifer following her in a rather short distance. He entered the warehouse just behind her and waited in the shadow, so well-hidden that he was barely recognizable in the grainy video.

Chloe shook her head, frowning. It looked like her troublesome consultant waited no more than fifteen seconds, out of twenty minutes she fixed.

She saw herself raising the container with the toxin and talking with the 'customers'. There was no sound on the recording, but she could rehearse their dialogue from memory. The third man, a rather big guy in the leather jacket, waiting behind the pile of pallets, was visible at the recording. When Chloe saw him stepping out of his hiding and hitting her head, she grimaced, not because of the reminder of pain, but disgusted at her own stupidity. How could she not have noticed him earlier? Oh, but she got too intrigued by this flyer they gave her and got distracted… well in her job there usually was a price for not paying enough attention.

Now she could have seen what happened after her black-out. The three men started to quarrel over her unconscious body, but not long, as Lucifer stepped out of the shadow and drew their attention. The man in the leather jacket produced the gun, aiming it at the consultant. Lucifer negligently raised his hands but kept approaching at the trio. Even without the recording, Chloe knew he was doing his signature move: talking. It was simply unbelievable, how this man could keep his head cool with the gun aimed at him and talk some moonshine, some utter nonsense, which still turned out to take desirable effect. She saw it with her own eyes many times at crime scenes and she saw it now in the recording: Lucifer with his hands raised up slowly closing the gap between him and the trio in the middle of the warehouse.

Suddenly, the man in the jacket moved the aim from Lucifer to her unconscious form, pointing at her head.

Lucifer stopped walking.

"Watch this," whispered Dan.

For about thirty seconds the group stood in place, almost unmoving, only that Lucifer after a while slowly lowered his hands. The man in the jacket kept aiming at her but stared at the consultant, and when the last one reached out to him, he slowly handed him over the gun.

And then their three would be 'customers' simply ran away, leaving her and Lucifer in the warehouse.

"I thought that these men knocked you down and escaped and he found you after that," explained Dan. "However, as you could see, that was not what really happened."

"Lucifer does not lie," replied Chloe automatically. The video was still running and she watched how Lucifer checked her pulse and gathered her from the floor and something in her throat clenched because even at the grainy recording she saw how gently he did it.

"Actually, he didn't lie," replied Dan slowly. "I do not think so. I just made some assumptions concerning the most probable course of actions and he didn't correct them."

"Well, these were your assumptions," Chloe commented a bit harshly. In the recording, Lucifer put her carefully on the pallet, placing his rolled jacked under her head, to make her comfortable. Then he used her transmitter to make a call.

"He called for the backup?" asked Chloe, and Dan nodded. Chloe stopped the video.

"I know that this looks strange, that man handing him the gun and them all running away," she said with a sigh. "I have already seen him doing this to other people. I mean… talking them into total mess… I have no idea how he does it. He just… has a way with words. Because these are only words, Dan. A bit freaky, right… but only words," she stressed.

"I know," nodded Dan. "We have listened to the recording from the wiretapping you were wearing." He used her phone to call the technicians lab. "Peter, can you send us a file?"

"Look, I am not certain I need to listen to it," said Chloe with hesitation. "I heard him many times… in action, if you can say so. I don't know, perhaps he is a hypnotizer? Anyway, it does not work for me, so…"

"I think you should listen to it, Chloe," objected her ex-husband. "Besides, you didn't see the whole video. Let's do it once again, this time with audio."

Curious, Chloe didn't object anymore.

The technician not only sent them the audio file, but also came to synchronize it with the video from the cameras.

"I will make you a full movie, just let me watch it with you," he said with a grin. "The audio file was… ugh… something. I want to see it all."

He opened the file and for a few seconds tapped the keyboard, adjusting the sound to the movie. "Aaand action!" he finally called, satisfied.

 _'Hello, I am here!'_ sounded Chloe's voice from the recording just when her figure on the movie raised the container.

"Here comes our star," commented the technician. "Sorry, Decker, this time you stay in your clothes."

"Shut up or get lost," immediately growled Dan, but Chloe only rolled her eyes. She heard jokes referring to the infamous Hot Tube School Girls often enough to get immune to them.

"Speed to the moment when they knock me out," she said calmly.

Peter did as requested and almost immediately in the second when she saw herself falling down on the floor, she heard Lucifer's voice, at first from the distance, so that the words were incomprehensible, but as he came closer, they could hear him more clearly.

_'…that's surprising why people get so anxious whenever death is mentioned. I realize that your lifespan on the earthly plane is critically short, but still, why despair over the inevitable? So the Death's Door…'_

_'Man, what are you talking about? Just shut up! Who sent you?'_ sounded the man's voice, probably the one with the gun.

 _'Now, you are being inconsistent,'_ came the smooth reply. _'Shall I shut up or explain who sent me? Make your choice.'_

Chloe smirked, seeing that with each word Lucifer was getting nearer. Yes, it was crazy of him to walk straightly toward the gun, but the man in the jacket only stared at him, clutching the weapon.

 _'Just shut up! And do not get any closer!'_ called the man, this time with a shadow of panic in his voice, as if he wasn't the one with the gun.

_'Oh, the third wish. Do you think that I am a goldfish? Or a jinnee?'_

On the video, Lucifer calmly walked forward.

That was the moment when the man with the jacked suddenly shifted the aim from Lucifer to her, lying on the floor.

_'Not one step further, or I will blow her head off!'_

Lucifer stopped and for a moment remained silent. When he spoke again, the mocking, suave tone disappeared from his voice.

 _'You made a mistake,'_ he stated.

Chloe felt creeps crawling down her neck. To disperse them, she chuckled and added lightely:

"I know what comes next. The part about desires. His signature move."

"Not this time," Dan shook his head. "This time he was pissed off."

_'Tell me, little humans, what's your greatest nightmare?'_

Chloe literally jumped in her seat. This voice, it didn't even sound like Lucifer, her friend, the careless playboy from the night club. It was like the whisper of some inhuman creature, old and sinister.

_'A mould? How simple. A mould that nested itself in the very heart of your family home, on the bread that your mother left you closing you in the cellar so that she could hump the next lover? A mould on your bedding, a mould on your clothes, do you know there are nightmares where the mould can eat you alive if you do not wake up in time?_  
_The fear of pain, trite, and yet so much history behind it. You are right to fear pain, not the one you felt but the one you inflicted. It will all return to you. You think it was not your fault and someone else made you do it, funny thing, you are always trying to shield yourself from the responsibility but that never works, you know? Well, I do. I do know.'_

"Okey, let's stop it. That's enough," said Chloe, trying to sound strong and composed. No one replied to her, so she looked at her companions. Both Dan and Peter were sitting petrified, staring at the screen, with pale faces and sweat gathering on their foreheads.

"Hey, guys, wake up. Now, you are a bit creepy. He is not even speaking to you. It is just a recording," called Chloe and paused the file. "What's going on with you?"

"Fuck…" sighed Dan wiping his eyes. "I am listening to this for the second time, I know what he was saying, and yet I heard… ah, never mind."

"I heard my worst nightmare," stated simply Peter. "Well almost. Shit, the guy is suggestive. From now on I will start to believe in hypnosis. And you, Decker?"

"It does not work on me," the detective shook her head. "I guess I am hypnosis resistant." She tried to speak lightly, but something in her wanted to scream that hypnosis doesn't cover even the beginning of the problem. She wanted to shut off the file and forget it.

"Well, let's listen to the end," said Dan and pushed again the 'play' button.

 _'And you are boring,'_ Lucifer crooked his head looking at the third man. _'You are afraid of the harm coming to your family. Boring, but still leverage. Do I need to help you imagine, what worst can happen to them? Or would you do it yourself?'_

_'Do you see, how your fears are worming out? How vulnerable you are? How unwise is it for you to stand up to me, to get on my way? Don't you know I can make all your nightmares come true? So, just give me that, mould man.'_

When these words sounded, Lucifer reached for the gun. The man in the jacket, not letting his eyes move from the consultant, simply handed it over.

_'And now run.'_

Lucifer didn't say or do anything else, but all three men simply turned away, running to the exit of the warehouse. Chloe watched once again how he kneeled near her, checking the pulse on her wrist.

_'Detective?...'_

That was his voice again, gentle and cultured. Familiar British accent. Chloe slowly calmed down, watching him call the backup, providing information in short, precise sentences. He appeared so… reliable at the moment. A very good partner with unusual gift, that's all, thought Chloe, trying to convince herself she felt no doubts about it.

And then on the video appeared a new figure, a petite woman clad in black leather.

"Maze!..." Chloe frowned. Lucifer must have called Maze. And when they were driving to the warehouse, he proposed that she return home. Apparently, he wanted to deal with Cumbo buyers together with Maze. _And here I thought we were partners,_ thought the detective with the sting of jealousy. _Well, he can sleep and play the King of Hell with whomever he wants, but as far as solving the cases is concerned, I am not going to let myself be replaced._

In the meantime on the recording the sharp voice of the barmaid sounded clearly.

_'What, the party's over? Why didn't you wait for me?'_

_'I intended to wait. However, they vexed me,_ ' replied Lucifer.

 _'What happened to your pet? Is she dead?'_ this time Maze's voice rang with hope. Lucifer looked at her direction and it was enough to make Maze at the video step back and add defensively: _'Just asking.'_

 _'The detective will be fine,'_ stated Lucifer. _'Now, Mazikeen, though I didn't need your help in dealing with this undercover mission, I think I can still offer you some entertainment. Did you see the men that ran away from this building?'_

_'Yes.'_

_'The police are on their track and should catch them soon. Yet before that, I'd like to speak with one of them. The tallest, in the leather jacket. I am not entirely done with him yet. So, would you make me a present, Mazikeen?'_

The barmaid laughed in a way Chloe heard only in some naughty movies. Dan and Peter blushed at the very sound of it.

 _'You will have it wrapped,'_ she said and headed to the exit from the warehouse. Chloe noticed her in passing at one of the outside recordings, and then the girl disappeared in the darkness. A few seconds later, the backup patrol and the ambulance arrived at the warehouse.

Chloe saw medics putting her on the stretchers and Lucifer talking to Dan. She switched off the recording.

Peter nodded and left to his lab. For a moment Chloe and Dan sat in silence.

"Maze is not only a barmaid, she is Lucifer's bodyguard. I guess he called her when you convinced him that the situation might be too difficult for me to handle."

"Yes," nodded Dan. "But you know she is not the problem, Chlo. He is."

"He didn't do anything. He was only talking," she defended quickly. "He even never carries a gun. When he saw me in danger, he wanted to help, that's all."

Dan rubbed his forehead, looking very tired. "Listen Chlo, I just wanted you to see it. This guy is freaky and unpredictable." He hesitated and burst out: "Hell, he is sick! Can't you see that? Right, I know, that he is loyal to you, but he does it just on a whim! What if he changes his mind? I would feel better if you had a more reliable partner."

Chloe swallowed hard and averted her eyes. Dan was very short-sighted. The real problem was, not whether Lucifer was acting on a whim, but whether he behaved according to his nature. Dan's lack of insight made him omit something that Chloe found most worrisome: Lucifer scared all the men from the warehouse, even if he 'wasn't done' with one of them. Why didn't he finish his dealings with him immediately? The man was paralysed with fear, he would put up no resistance.

_Because he knew, that there were cameras in the warehouse._

Chloe shivered and struggled to concentrate on the case.

"It is not about what you feel, Dan, or even what I feel. Before he appeared I had no partner, so… And all in all, he did his job yesterday. I am more interested in how this all connects to the case." Trying to sound oblivious and composed, Chloe looked at the watch. "Now I need to go to talk with Mitchell's brother. Then I would like to interrogate these men from the warehouse. And I would like to do it together with Lucifer. That's all."

"Well, you will be able to interview only two of them," retorted Dan. "The third one was found a few hours later and in such mental condition that he had to be sent to the psychiatric E.R. Oh, don't worry, no one is accusing your consultant of anything," her ex-husband grimaced mockingly. "The man was not beaten, or drugged, or anything like that. No bodily harm. However, we both know it was him, don't we?" Dan looked at Chloe expectantly but having received no answer after a while just shook his head and left her room.

Chloe for a moment sat in silence. She was thinking about Jimmy Barnes in the psychiatric hospital. Jimmy Barnes, who shot at her, wounding her shoulder.

And now this "third man", the one in the leather jacket. Perhaps Dan didn't dwell on it, but it was obvious that it was the one that knocked Chloe down and aimed at her with the gun.

 _He was only talking with them,_ she recalled once again. _They must have already been unhinged, that's all. And it has nothing to do with me._

_But of course, that it does._

_Enough_ , she decided, standing up. _The case was the priority and she had a job to do._


	5. The jinnee

When Chloe arrived at the house of Ben Mitchell, Jeremy's brother, the black Corvette was already parked in front of it. Lucifer, elegant as usual, was leaning over the car, smoking – hopefully, a cigarette.

"Detective!" he pleased at her sight. "I am glad to see you recovered. Why did the Douche call me this morning and lie, pretending to speak in your name? I played along only to speared your lovely – but bruised – head the necessity to deal with his tantrums. However, if he tries to repeat this trick, I am not going to be compliant."

"Dan wanted to speak with me without your presence," Chloe said simply. Lucifer never lied. Somehow, it made her feel obliged to be equally honest with him. "He got scared of your performance in the warehouse. And that man, who ended in the psychiatric E.R…."

"He fully deserved it," assured her Lucifer with a serene smile. "And I left two others to be questioned for the sake of the investigation," he looked at her like a child demanding praise for being so thoughtful.

Chloe's hands fell helplessly along her sides, both at his recklessness and blunt openness. Somehow, it would be easier, if he did lie about some things. Or at least pretend, that nothing happened. Then she could pretend as well.

"I am sorry, Detective, but you seem troubled. Did I cause you to feel uncomfortable?" he asked looking her cautiously in the eyes.

"No," she replied quickly, unwilling to dwell on the subject. "I mean yes, but… no. I just do not want to speak about it. Not now."

"All right," he nodded, slowly. From his expression Chloe knew, he tried to decipher her emotions, but at the moment she couldn't decipher them as well.

"And do not bring your bodyguard barmaid at our crime scene anymore!" she snapped all of the sudden.

"All right," he nodded again, even more warily than before, but simultaneously his eyes sparkled with amusement. "Do I hear a hint of jealousy, Detective? Of a crime scene, of course. Our crime scene," he accented the word "our" with obvious delight.

 _Lucifer through and through. Make one slip and he won't miss the occasion to catch it and turn against you_ , thought Chloe and replied sharply:

"Not even a bit. But there are procedures to observe. Let's go, Mitchell is waiting."

However, already with her hand over the bell, she hesitated and said: "Sorry, I didn't mean to quarrel. Thank you for taking care of me yesterday."

"Of course," he replied, appearing to be surprised with her words. "That was obvious. Well, let's see what the brother has to say."

* * *

Ben Mitchell was a man very hard to talk to. He offered them a dry greeting and replied to the questions with monosyllabic words. Chloe did her best to pull his tongue, whereas Lucifer, apparently forgetting he was the one who insisted on speaking to Jeremy's brother, quickly got bored with the conversation and circled in the room, examining the souvenirs at the shelves and pictures on the walls. The detective did her best to ignore him and concentrate on the conversation.

"Where you and your brother close?" she asked.

"Yes," replied Ben. "I think so."

"If he had any problems… any enemies… would he tell you?" Chloe looked cautiously at the man in front of her.

"I believe yes," Ben Mitchell replied with distraction, his attention drew more to Lucifer, rummaging through his shelves. "Hey, could you put that back? It is was a gift from my baseball team."

"Really? They must have hated you, it is hideous," observed causally Lucifer, putting some silver object back on the shelf and moving to the pictures standing over the fireplace.

"Well, did he?" asked Chloe, and when Ben looked at her questioningly, repeated: "Did your brother have any enemies?"

"No. No, he didn't," the man shook his head.

"You like exotic holiday destinations, Mr Mitchell," observed Lucifer "and cheap souvenirs. It suggests the inclination to live beyond your means. Did your brother share this feature?"

"Sorry?" Ben looked at him angrily. "Can you leave my stuff and sit down?"

"Nope," replied Lucifer, proceeding to the bookshelf.

Chloe rolled her eyes but internally smiled. After visiting a house with Lucifer, there usually was no need to return with the search warrant.

"Was your brother involved in any illegal transactions?"

"No," replied Ben immediately.

"Something off-the-books? Suspicious contractors?"

"No, of course no."

 _He is avoiding eye contact_ , noted Chloe and decided to press further.

"Drug trade?"

"That's enough!" shouted Ben, standing up. "How dare you? Get out of my house. I am done with you. Not a word more without my lawyer."

Chloe sighed. Even if she had doubts about the sincerity of this outburst, the mentioning of the lawyer should end the conversation. They should call the lawyer. He would tell them even less than Ben Mitchell himself, but there were rules, set to obey them, and she should play by the rules.

However… perhaps it was worth bending the rules just a little, for the sake of the investigation… And she was a detective lucky enough to have some extraordinary means at her disposal.

Of course, she shouldn't. But…

The detective turned back, searching for her consultant.

"Would you try?..." she asked, trying to forget she is using the same asset that only yesterday sent another man to the psychiatric ward.

Lucifer was already waiting for her sign, more than eager to make his performance. He neared to them quickly and leaned over Ben Mitchell, catching his sight.

"Tell me, Ben, what do you desire?" he asked so casually, without any special concentration, that for a moment Chloe thought it was not going to work. However, Ben Mitchell's expression immediately went blank, his sight transfixed into Lucifer's eyes, and replied without hesitation:

"Money."

"Yes, I thought so," nodded Lucifer and smiled knowingly. "I saw your photos, Ben. You like to feel special, right?"

"Yes. Yes, I do," replied Mitchell and – a strange contrast to his previous attitude – also started to chuckle.

"But it costs?"

"It does."

"Pity, huh? Costs much more than the small herbal shop can earn, right?" Lucifer was still smiling with indulgence as if Ben was his old friend and they both were sitting over the beer and confessing their secrets to each other.

"Yeah. That business sucks. Too much competition from supermarkets. The prices they set…"

"Boring," cut him off Lucifer. "Tell me something dirty, Ben."

"I made contacts within the inner circle of the drug traffic," Ben smiled widely and looked at Lucifer with pride. "Really hard stuff."

"Bravo, Ben! I knew you had it in you!" called Lucifer triumphally.

Though he appeared still careless and friendly, Chloe noticed the slight change in his posture. He tensed, wrapping his long fingers over the back of the chair and leaned toward Ben, concentrating.

 _I don't know how he does it, but at least I know how he feels like at the moment. Excited, that the investigation is progressing. Like a hunting dog that coughed the scent._ Yes, that was something, that Chloe understood well. She felt the same. She covered his hand with hers and squeezed slightly. Not tearing his eyes from Mitchell, Lucifer twisted the corner of his mouth in a smirk, that was directed at her.

"You are a clever guy, Ben," continued Lucifer. "You get to work with the right people. And Jeremy?"

"Jeremy was a jerk," Ben shook his dead with contempt." A funk. He would never do drugs."

"So you had to kill him?" asked quickly Lucifer, crooking his head. Chloe held her breath, waiting for the answer.

However, Ben Mitchell gasped with indignation.

"Oh, no, I would never kill him! He was leading the business, after all. No, I just had to cheat him."

"How?"

"I told him we are going to sell stuff for some crazy new-age healers. Kind of illegal, but not too much. Something he could stomach."

"But it wasn't for healing? Inner equilibrium whatever?"

"No. They needed it… this toxic shit that Margot Jensen brought for my brother… it was for the production of the new drug. Something special, should hit the market. Enough to break the bank. That would be the deal of my life."

Ben Mitchell was laughing with dreamy expression in his eyes as if all the expected profits were already laying in front of him on the coffee table, and Chloe was thinking about these two kids in the hospital, whose names she didn't know and who were not to "make it" from the coma, and she felt her anger rising.

"You greedy maggot," hissed Lucifer, his flippant smile gone without a trace, and Chloe with anxiety realized he must have been thinking about the same. "To hit the market with the new hard stuff? The stupid kids would be dying on the scrap heaps so that you could have another holiday on Bari?"

The joyous satisfaction beaming from Lucifer suddenly dispersed, turning into something hungry and impatient. The back of the chair creaked under his grasp.

"That's enough," whispered Chloe, getting slightly scared. If Lucifer was a jinnee, sometimes it was much easier to make him fulfill a wish than send him back into the bottle.

The whole room got somehow darker… and warmer. Ben Mitchell started to tremble, sweat dripping from his forehead.

"That's enough. What's the name of this drug? The Death's Door?" Chloe asked aloud, hoping to bring Lucifer back to reality, from whatever darkness he was spiralling into.

It worked. Lucifer broke the connection with Mitchell, looked at her and sat on the chair, silent, but, hopefully, in control of himself.

Ben Mitchell, however, once released from Lucifer's sight, stared at her, mouth open, blinking and gasping for air in panic, the realization of what he just told dawning on him.

"Was it Death's Door?" she repeated, with more aggression in her voice.

"Yes," he whispered, all pale. "But…"

"No buts," Chloe went in full 'police mode', not only to get the truth of Mitchell, but also in fear, that by the slightest sign of her weakness the man sitting by her side in gloomy silence might want to take the lead again. "Is it why your brother died? Who killed him?"

"I don't know… Not they… We cooperated," stuttered Ben Mitchell, then took a deep breath, accepting his situation and repeated: "I do not know who killed my brother. I cheated him into this business, but it didn't cause him any direct danger."

"He is telling the truth," stated Lucifer almost obliviously. "Strange, but in spite of everything, it appears that this time the brother was not the killer. Pity. I do appreciate familiar schemes, and this is the oldest one in the history of mankind."

He spoke in his usual, suave voice with a British accent and Chloe let out the shaky breath, feeling as if the bomb by her side just stopped ticking.

* * *

Once they returned to the precinct, Chloe's fears concerning the consultant dispersed in the familiar environment of her office, especially that since the conversation with Ben Mitchell her partner was nothing but frivolous and friendly. And luckily, whether by accident or on purpose, Dan was outside of the precinct.

On the very same day later, after the official hearings of Ben Mitchell and two men from the warehouse Chloe had a meeting with her boss, Lieutenant Monroe to sum up the progress in the investigation. In the meeting participated also two girls from the drug section, who specialized in undercover actions and the secretary, who offered to make notes and prepare the minutes from the meeting. It was the first time when someone offered Chloe help with writing the minutes. Usually, she had to do all the paperwork herself. Usually, it was also not easy to get the help from the drug section, now overworked with Benitez case that Dan was leading.

And suddenly it turned out that half of the precinct was dreaming of participating in her meeting. The detective shook her head with a smile, watching Lucifer, who somehow managed to flirt with four women simultaneously and still looked at Chloe as if she had his undivided attention.

"You made great progress," praised them Monroe, not tearing her eyes from Lucifer. "You are such an amazing… amazing team."

"Well thank you, Olivia," beamed Lucifer. "That's because you are an amazing leader."

Monroe made a strange sound, as if her throat suddenly got dry, evidently turned speechless. Chloe used the occasion to take voice.

"We got the fresh trail of the group responsible for the production and distribution of the new, dangerous drug. All three suspects we interrogated point at one man and one location: Alex Derham in the bar Venice. He was the receiver of the toxins and he must be the contact man to the producers of the drug."

"We know this bar. And Derham has long criminal records," said one of the girls from the drug section, Chloe didn't remember her name. "Mostly dealing. I will prepare you the detailed report."

Of course, she said it to Lucifer. Chloe felt free to roll her eyes, but her consultant only leaned to the girl with a smile.

"That's the most… helpful of you, Anne. Aren't you a treasure?..."

That silenced the girl for a while and Chloe decided to continue.

"I think we managed to answer the few questions. Neither the family nor the dealers had the motive to kill Mitchell. What's more, his death led us to their trail. So, one could say that the murder was aimed to hinder the business of the dealers."

"The warning notes confirms it," added Lucifer.

"Yesss… it does," sighed Monroe with distracted expression and Chloe did her best not to roll her eyes again. After all, Monroe was her superior officer.

"The person who called the police informing about the alleged burglary to Mitchell's shop, underlined the information about the warning note. We believe it was done to make sure that the note won't go unnoticed on this messy table… A hint left on purpose to lead us onto the trail of the Death's Door. So, the conclusions are simple," Chloe looked around, searching for confirmation in the faces of other participants of the meeting, but they were too busy casting glances at her consultant.

The detective silently swore to herself to keep Lucifer as far from the meetings as possible in future.

"I propose that we should follow the trail of the dealers," continued Chloe. "If we found them, we would also find their enemies, who should be responsible for the death of Jeremy Mitchell." She took a deep breath, preparing for the decisive moment. "The question is, whether we still have this case? Of course, I would like to continue the investigation."

Chloe finished, with anxiety awaiting Monroe's decision. She had to admit, that the case was getting a bit too big for one detective supported by the civil consultant, but if Monroe let her keep it, it would be the real chance, the first real chance she had since a few months to break the bad streak after Palmetto…

"Ehm… let me rephrase it," Lucifer leant toward Monroe, brandishing one of his charming smiles. "Olivia, we would need some help in further investigation. One or two people to help with undercover research and so on… certainly, such apt officer like you knows the best how such things should be done. And Detective Decked should be given the oversight of the operation."

Monroe, who only seconds before looked at Chloe with hesitant expression, now beamed and nodded with approving smile. "Of course. Prepare me the list, what you need, Detective," she said to Chloe and looked at Lucifer again. "And good luck. Just take care of yourself."

"Uhm. I will. I mean, we will. Thank you," Chloe said to Monroe, but sending a grateful glance to Lucifer. Perhaps taking him to this meeting wasn't such a bad idea after all.

When the meeting was over, she let herself for a triumphant smile. She finally had a serious case, a chance to do what she felt called up to do. After Palmetto, she was slowly getting reduced to an office job. Now she finally was getting some windfall.

She probably wouldn't achieve it without Lucifer. Chloe raised her head to looked at the consultant and spotted him chatting with the secretary.

"And who are you? I haven't seen your pretty face yet, Dear," he said to the young woman, who already started to blush. "Would you tell me more about yourself?..."

Of course that she would, thought Chloe, shaking her head with indulgence.

He was such a charming, helpful companion. He simply didn't like dishonest people.


	6. The one with the nightmares

_The dream started, as usual, with Chloe standing in front of the LUX. The beginning was always the same, so she already realized, it was THE dream again and didn't want to enter. However, the dream developed on its own and, like in a movie jumping from one scene to another, she suddenly found herself inside the club._

_If she at least saw Lucifer in these dreams, perhaps they could turn into something more entertaining. Still, he never appeared._

_It was always Maze._

_"Come, our fair Detective," said the barmaid, leaning to Chloe from behind the counter, "I want to show you something." With these words, Maze pushed toward her the glass filled with dark fluid, the lights of the reflectors glittering on the ice cubes inside._

_"I don't want a drink," Chloe shook her head, but Maze only chuckled._

_"Just look inside."_

_Despite her will, Chloe took the glass and looked at its content. Once she did it, she couldn't tear her eyes away. The lights reflected in the drink glittered like sparks, or little flames, the liquid started to whirl, turning into a vortex, spreading and consuming the space around her, the bar, the club, the lights, everything except her and Maze…_

_"What is it?" asked Chloe, looking around the vast space of grey, rough rocks, barely lit with dim glow and occasional flashes of fire in the sharp-edged crevices. She knew the answer from the previous dreams, but still, she had to ask._

_"My memories," replied Maze, squinting her eyes and for a moment her face adorned the genuine smile. Then, however, she grimaced with disgust. "And you, sweet fair soul, you are the reason I cannot go back here."_

_Chloe wondered, why anyone, even Maze, would like to return here. Of course, it was just a dream, but even for a dream this place was extremely depressing, dark and sad, the gloomy greys as far as the eye could see, and the thick ash flakes falling from nowhere…_

_"Watch and listen," said Maze and at this moment Chloe heard piercing screams and saw the flashes of the mutilated corpses, limbs ripped apart, wounds and burns inflicted on the still-living flesh…_

_She shivered but recalled herself it was just a dream._

_"I have seen worse," she said. Oh, she did see worse, at the crime scenes, in the hospitals, in the morgues, so much worse, when it was real… and all this was probably some coping mechanism of her brain, trying to work out the stress of her work._

_"Why don't you just run away?" hissed Maze, sounding surprisingly desperate._

_"I am not running away," replied Chloe. She tried to shake the ash from her jacket. It left greasy, dirty streaks. "But I would like to wake up."_

_"One day it may not be possible," whispered Maze and grasped at Chloe's chin, forcing the detective to look in her face. With a cruel smile the barmaid slowly turned, presenting Chloe her left cheek, now terribly scarred, tissue burned out and bones of the jaw exposed. "Have you really seen worse?"_

_"Oh, poor Maze…" gasped Chloe, raising her hand to touch the wound. "Does it hurt? Can we heal it?"_

_The barmaid's face lit with fury._

_"Damn you!" she yelled, pushing Chloe back with such force, that she heavily landed on the rocks a few yards away. "Do not dare bring mercy to the Hell!"_

_Chloe started to scramble from the ground but suddenly something clenched her throat, an invisible noose tightening on her neck. She started to fight for breath - the pain searing her lungs - but in avail. When she turned to Maze in search for help, she saw the dark-hair woman standing over her, watching her struggle with satisfaction. Triumphant grin twisted both sides of her face, equally the beautiful and the nightmarish one. Chloe realized that somehow Maze is the one responsible for strangling her._

_The lack of air caused vertigo and the red stains started to dance in front of Chloe's eyes. She fell on her hands and knees and then even lower, her forehead hitting the cold rock. At the moment when she was about to lose consciousness, everything disappeared and she woke up in her room._

She abruptly sat on the bed, greedily gasping for the air in violent intakes. The red stains were slowly disappearing, the pain in her lungs diminishing.

 _I must have covered my face with a cushion,_ she thought in disbelief. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before.

Still shaking, she went to the bathroom and washed her face with cold water. Then she looked at her neck, half expecting to see some mark there, left by the invisible noose from her dream – but her skin was unmarred.

Finally, feeling very stupid, she looked at her pyjama. No, there were no traces of ash on it.

 _Just another dream,_ she thought, trying to calm herself. Still, for the next hour or so she laid sleeplessly, staring into the ceiling of her room. In the last days, she dreamt a few times about Maze and the greyish, unfriendly landscape. It was yet the first time when the dream became so hostile and so… realistic.

* * *

The girls from the drug section, made up for junkies since two days were hanging around the pub Venice, observing Alex Derham and trying to get some information about the new drug. However, probably because of the last arrests made by the LAPD, all the dealers suddenly became very tight-lipped and Derham – exceptionally cautious. After two fruitless days, Chloe decided to arrest Derham, fearing that he may disappear for good.

As soon as Lucifer appeared at the precinct, she grabbed the car keys. "Come. We are going to visit Venice," she quipped. The consultant however measured her with a surprised glance:

"Are you also going undercover, Detective?" seeing her confused glance, he looked at her more carefully and exclaimed: "I thought that you are characterized like the drug-addict, but it is not the makeup! You look terrible, Detective! What happened?"

"Now that was so kind of you," snorted Chloe. "You really make me feel special. How's that everyone else claims that you are such a charmer?"

"I think we already established, that my charms do not affect you, Detective. And I am not lying," he replied unabashedly. "But seriously, what happened?"

"Nothing," Chloe shrugged her shoulders. "I just didn't sleep well recently. Let's go. We are going to arrest Derham today."

On their way to the elevator, she tried to catch her reflection on the glass doors. Did she really look that bad? Probably yes. If even Lucifer, the muster of egocentrism, noticed… To be true, she didn't sleep well in the few days, however, the last nightmare literally drenched the energy from her. How could she have dreamt something like this? And how could she imagine Maze with the mutilated face? True, there was no love lost between her and Lucifer's bodyguard, but to imagine this beautiful woman in such a horrible way? Was she really jealous of her? Chloe felt ashamed of her subconsciousness.

"Finally. You have lingered with the arrest too long. Let's get him, make him talk and then you should take a few days off," commented Lucifer on their way to the car. "And if you would like me to help you to relax…"

"Shhh…" hushed him Chloe, because her phone just rang. She recognized the number of Anne from the drug section, who should be now sitting in the pub Venice. "Anne? What happened?"

"Derham is terribly nervous today," said quietly the girl, probably calling from the street. "I think he knows we are watching him. Once he saw me, he moved to the rear of the pub. He is still there, but I am certain that once he sees the police, he will try to run away."

"Okey, that's one more reason for not waiting any longer with the arrest. We will approach from the rear of the building," decided Chloe. "I will ask for a backup to enter the pub from the front and once Derham escapes, we would get him."

The backup patrol turned out to be led by Dan, who eagerly agreed to cooperate.

Chloe parked her car at the back street behind the Venice and, trying to fight off the fatigue and sleepiness, started the action. She gave a signal to Dan and tried to come as close to the back door of the pub as possible. Together with Lucifer they crossed the yards and back alley, sneaking between trash containers and piles of rubbish. The detective smirked at the disgusted expression of her consultant, but her face also fell, when suddenly the wind blew at them a cloud of ash from the low chimney.

The impression was so close to her unpleasant dream, that for a second she stopped and shivered.

"Bloody ash," she whispered.

"Yes," Lucifer echoed with the same aversion, but then blinked and looked at her with confusion: "I am sorry, did I just say that?"

"No, it was me," chuckled Chloe. "Seems that your mannerisms are rubbing on me."

"No, I wasn't referring to the "bloody" part," Lucifer shook his head. "It is the ash that worries me. Why don't you like it?"

"And who likes ash?..."Chloe stared at him, surprised with his sudden tension. "Let's go."

Lucifer appeared confused but nodded: "Right. Damn filth."

As if confirming his words, a few ash flakes landed on his jacket and he very carefully started to blow them away.

"See, sometimes it is better to wear clothes that can be put into the washing machine," commented bitingly Chloe and turned back. "Let's go, Dan must have already entered the bar and Derham may try to sneak away any second."

She made no more than few steps when the gust of wind blew the new cloud of ash straight at her. She instinctively tried to wipe it away from her blouse and saw it leaving the greasy stains.

"Shit," she whispered with irritation. "Like in this fucking dream."

In the next second, she was shoved against the wall and Lucifer loomed over her with suddenly darkened expression.

"What dream?" he asked sharply.

"What?" Chloe looked at him incredulously. "Nothing. Just a nightmare. Let's go."

She tried to move, but Lucifer didn't pay attention, not letting his grip on her shoulders.

"What nightmare?"

"Normal nightmare," hissed Chloe. "Nothing special. End of subject. Let go of me."

She felt enough irritated by the fact, that she had to ask him to release her, but Lucifer didn't pay the slightest attention to her words.

"What nightmare involving ash did you have, Detective?" he drawled, trying to look her in the eye.

"Shit," swear Chloe, as in the corner of her vision she noticed a man sneaking out of the back door of the building behind them. "That's Derham." She tried to wrestle Lucifer's hands away. "If he escapes because of you… I will never work with you again."

Lucifer with distraction looked at the direction of the runaway, as if he had forgotten, why they came here, and finally let her go. Chloe immediately started to run after Derham, yelling:

"LAPD! Stop!"

She caught up with him almost at the end of the alley, already hearing the noises of the pursuit. For a second, she wrestled with the man, they both falling on the ground. When she finally managed to handcuff him, Dan and the policewoman accompanying him were already behind her.

"We have him," she said panting and pushed the man toward Dan. "Thank you. Would you tell him his rights?"

While Dan started to recite the law required formula, Chloe looked around in search for Lucifer. He stood in the same place where she left him, correcting his handcuffs and looked neither apologizing, nor especially interested in the arrest. Of course, he didn't even move his ass to help with Derham. The detective felt the anger literally boiling her blood.

"What the hell was that?" she spat angrily, striding toward him.

"Well, you have made your arrest," Lucifer stated with such expression as if he had just granted her a big favour, "now tell me about your nightmare."

 _A fucking nightmare?_ Chloe struggled to control her anger only because of the presence of Dan and police gathered around Durham. Otherwise, she would either slap him or at least started to yell insults at him. He almost spoilt the whole operation just because all of the sudden he fancied to be interested in her dreams?

 _Dan was right, that he does everything on a whim,_ passed through her mind.

Besides, that was unfair. Chloe was in excellent physical condition and hell, she worked hard on it, during all these hours spend on training or in fitness rooms – instead, for example, with her daughter – just because she wanted to be efficient in her job. She could do down a man twice her weight; which, by the way, she has just done with Durham. And now what? She couldn't get rid of the grasp of the man whose strength should be waned by drugs and alcohol abuse? Hell, Lucifer didn't even sleep properly, spending the nights in his club and days as her consultant.

 _With his lifestyle, I wouldn't be able to climb the stairs,_ thought gloomily Chloe. She saw him earlier making a show of unusual strength, but it was always during the confrontations with the criminals and she attributed it mostly to adrenaline. This time, however, he was seemed anxious, but otherwise composed. _How is he doing this?_

"You know what? At the moment, you are my nightmare," she said angrily and followed the group leading Derham to the police car, not interested whether he was following her or not.

"You are telling now yourself your dreams?" commented bitingly Dan, who must have heard their exchange.

"Nightmares," accented Chloe heavily. "Lucifer is interested in nightmares."

"Perhaps he never has dreams on his own," snorted Dan. "With all that he drinks and inhales, he probably just blacks out each night."

"I didn't include you in this conversation, Douche," stated coldly Lucifer. So, he must have followed them. "Detective, if that's what you are expecting I may say that I am sorry, but I really need to speak to you."

"Later," replied only Chloe, without turning back.

They reached the parking in front of the Venice and Derham was loaded into the police car. The detective sighed with relief, trying to concentrate what to do next. As soon as they reach the precinct, Derham needed to be interrogated. Chloe stiffed a yawn. She would, of course, lead the interrogation, even if at the moment she would prefer to go home and sleep a few hours.

 _No. If I fell asleep, the dream might return_ , passed through her mind and Chloe shuddered. Shit, was she now going to be scared to sleep? Just because of a stupid dream?

"Everyone has nightmares," observed the young policewoman who was accompanying Dan, as if she read Chloe's thoughts. However, the woman was not looking at Chloe only at Lucifer. "Like forgetting to put the pants on before going to work, or writing the exam naked." She winked to him and Chloe was sure to hear one of his not so subtle innuendos. However, her partner remained unusually silent.

 _Yes, everyone had dreams. There was nothing usual at it_ , thought Chloe and trying to convince herself, tried to recall her previous nightmares.

"When I was younger, I often had a nightmare that I forgot to feed Trixie and she was crying somewhere there, hungry," she said.

"Which, by the way, not always was a dream," muttered Dan.

"Don't be such dou… dick, Dan," Chloe bridled angrily. "Trixie was never hungry."

"Well, she got this habit of hiding the cakes in her room from somewhere," Dan snapped back.

"You must have fed your progeny adequately if it survived till now," said impatiently Lucifer. "Now, Douche, though it is good that you reminded the Detective why she is divorcing you, I'd like to return to our previous conversation. Shell we?" he looked at her.

Chloe wanted to roll her eyes. Why did he get so obsessed with the subject? Though, on the other hand, perhaps Dan was right and Lucifer didn't have dreams – or nightmares – on his own? Or maybe – new thought dawned to her - it was the contrary? Maybe he had terrible nightmares on his own and that's why he treated hers so seriously? After all, if he was doing the therapy, he could also take some medicines and that certainly didn't agree with all the alcohol he drank. It could cause the most awful dreams. Chloe's anger immediately subsided, giving place to compassion. She had to have more understanding for him and his reactions. After all, she knew already that her partner needed to be treated as a big child. With infinite patience.

She would prefer to explain Lucifer everything in private, but neither Dan, not his companion hurried with driving away with Derham only stared at Lucifer, Dan angrily and the woman – enticingly. The detective tried to ignore their presence and turned to her partner.

"Lucifer, we all have nightmares, that's how our brain tries to cope with stress," she said with a smile, imagining she is explaining something to Trixie. "Our job is difficult and it takes a toll on us. I see a lot of gruesome scenes at work and that's why, from time to time, I have a nightmare that reflects them. All I saw in my dream is nothing but twisted by my subconsciousness macabre pictures set in the postapocalyptic scenery of the grey rocky desert covered with ash. That's all. Please, calm down yourself."

The gentle persuasion she tried to speak with was in vain. Lucifer tensed even more, his eyes darkened.

"Detective," he said very quietly, "you didn't calm me down in the slightest."

"Dreams do not hurt, Lucifer," smirked Chloe. However, the involuntary recollection of the last night made her shudder. She hardly fought the urge to rub her neck. "Even if they are suggestive," she added, to mask her uncertainty.

"Detective, some dreams do not dream without a reason and the more I consider possible reasons of you having that particular dream the more I fear them."

"My job…"

"Your job has nothing to do with rocky labyrinth covered with ash."

 _Yes, it was a labyrinth, not the desert!_ Reminded Chloe and almost gasped, looking at Lucifer. _How did he…_

"You must have seen it on some movie," said the policewoman to her, with a shrug, trying to join the conversation. "I remember that after watching…"

"Right, the movie!" exclaimed Chloe, suddenly having found the answer for something that has been gnawing her since morning. "Of course I saw it in the movie! I couldn't make it up myself! Harvey Dent in the Dark Knight! I knew I saw such two-sided face somewhere. I mean… that's something else I also saw in my dream," she finished clumsily, ashamed with her outburst.

"You dreamt about Harvey Dent?" asked Lucifer, now looking absolutely confused.

"After his face got burned?..." echoed him Dan.

Chloe felt even more stupid than before.

"No, actually it was your Maze," she nodded to Lucifer and laughed apologizingly, praying that he wouldn't make again some stupid remarks about her being jealous. "But with two-sided face, normal and disfigured, like the one of Harvey Dent. Sorry. I am not going to tell her this. I guess that my mixed feelings toward her somehow resurfaced. Let's just not speak about this again, okey?"

"Shit, girl, your dreams really are fucked up," laughed the policewoman. "All right, let's go or Derham would get grey before we deliver him to the precinct."

"Fine," nodded Chloe. "We parked in the back alley, so… hey, what are you doing?" she called, feeling Lucifer's hand sneaking around her and reaching to her pocket.

"I need your car," he stated and Chloe noticed that he was keeping her car keys. "I just have to settle something in the LUX. You can return with them. I will drive your car to the precinct after that," he said only and walked away.

"Hey!" Chloe gasped, for the second time today struck dumb with fury. "What about the interrogation…"

But Lucifer was already far away. She would only humiliate herself trying to run after him.

"That's not the sports car, if you burn my clutch, I will kill you!" she only yelled after him, fisting her hands helplessly.

"And who is the real dick?" rubbed in Dan, with obvious satisfaction and added patronizingly: "Don't worry, Chlo. I will take you to the precinct and help you with the interrogation."

And, of course, Chloe had no choice, but accept his help.

* * *

"We didn't kill Mitchell," stated Derham. He realized the gravity if his situation and was relatively open. "He was a useful idiot. His brother fed him with some fairytale and that was enough. And he got good contacts. There was a woman that brought him stuff from the whole world."

"I know," nodded Chloe. "But who killed him?"

Derham eyed her in silence for a while.

"Competition," he said finally.

"Develop it."

"There is nothing to develop," Derham shook his head. "We pulled them a stunt, they pulled us another and got our supplier. That's all."

"A stunt? Killing a man was a stunt?" repeated numbly Chloe. She felt something tighten in her chest. Perhaps it was good that Lucifer wasn't present, after listening to such blunt and emotionless statement, he would probably be on the verge of the outburst.

Alex Derham shrugged his shoulders and chuckled.

"Who did it? Names," demanded Chlo.

Durham's smirk only widened.

On the other hand, Chloe regretted that Lucifer was not here. Who knows, she might have left him alone with Derham in the interrogation room for a few minutes. Considering the fact, that her partner was in the mood for talking about nightmares today, a short conversation with Derham should be enough to wipe that smirk from the face of this bandit.

"Who killed Jeremy Mitchell?"

Derham looked at her almost with indulgence.

"Honey, you have a pretty face and a strong hook, but I am not going to tell you about others. I am not a snitch. Do you know what happens to the snitch in prison?" Before Chloe managed to reply, he added: "Nothing you can to do me is worse than that."

Without Lucifer to prove this last statement wrong, the detective had to accept the defeat. Alex Derham would give them something, but not enough to earn himself the death sentence from another gang.

"Then tell me about yourself. What 'stunt' did you pull on your competition?"

"Sorry, Honey," Derham shook his head again. "Professional secrets. And I think you should offer me the lawyer and the phone call now."

Chloe took a few deep breaths and left the room, hardly refraining herself from crashing Derhams head onto the table. She went to Dan, who was observing them through the mirror.

"He won't talk anymore. I am calling to Lucifer to come and try his trick."

Dan looked at her almost with disgust. "What? Chloe, come on. You used to do better than this. How did it happen, that all of the sudden you cannot do your job without this freak?"

That was Dan. He couldn't speak with her without being judgmental about her, or her competencies. Chloe shook her head, trying to keep the conversation as far from personal as possible.

"Dan, you are unjust. I just want to use his help. We still do not know who killed Mitchell. And I have a bad feeling about this stunt they made. What kind of stunt must it have been, if someone killed the man in retaliation? What if it all started with another murder we didn't discover yet?"

"Okey, but we will do it the normal way. Talk to the prosecutor, propose the deal… It will work, the guy would talk. That's how we work, Chlo. Without psycho tricks."

Actually, here Dan was right. But still… Chloe had a hunch that she should use each tool available to get as much information as possible... Oh, but Lucifer wasn't a tool. He was… so much more. Not only in a good sense.

"Chlo, this guy is unreliable. You saw for yourself today," said quietly Dan, as if sensing her inner distress. "Do not get yourself… dependent on him."

Chloe recalled the events from the last hours and finally nodded. "I guess you may be right."

* * *

The detective set a meeting with the prosecutor and arranged Durham's transfer to the prison. Still, before leaving the precinct, she decided to contact Lucifer. After all, they were partners. It was their case, not only hers.

Of course, the only way she could do it was to call the LUX. How could someone today not have a cell? But it was another proof of Lucifer's arrogance. After all, it was the world who wanted to contact him, not vice versa.

"Hi, Patrick," she said, recognizing the barman's voice on the other end of the line. "Can I speak with the boss? He told me he was going to the club."

"Ugh.. yes, he is here," replied Patrick, sounding rather unsure, "but he is now talking to Maze… and I am not going between them now. Sorry, Ms Decker."

"Okey, but can you pass him a message? He took my car and promised to drive it to the precinct, but I am leaving the office now. Tell him to leave it in front of my house."

"Ms Decker, I would drive your car to your home myself, if necessary, but later. An hour or two, when the atmosphere cools off a little. Right now, we are a bit tense here... I am not going to ask him for the keys at the moment."

"Fine. Thank you, Patrick," sighed Chloe and ended the phone call.

Whatever was happening in the LUX now, unfortunately, it confirmed Dan's words. Lucifer was… perhaps not unreliable, but unpredictable. The investigations and whole 'consultant' stuff was a hobby for him. For her, it was a job. She shouldn't get too much used to his help, no matter how valuable it was.

* * *

After settling the meeting with the prosecutor Chloe returned home so tired, that once she finally managed to send Trixie to the bad, she simply fell into her own, without supper or shower. In her last conscious thought she feared for another nightmare, but she didn't dream it again.


	7. The question of priorities

After the good nights rest the detective decided to spend the day dealing with the overdue paperwork. She wasn't especially fond of it, but the pile of folders on her desk was growing and she could use the time of waiting for Derham's statement to deal with it. She was also going to call the LUX and tell Lucifer not to come today. After yesterday's events, she felt the need to put appropriate distance between her and her whimsical partner. Some space would do well for both of them.

However, when she was going to make herself coffee in the kitchenette, she almost collided in the entrance to her room with the man in question.

"Oh… you are early. I was just going to let you know, that you do not have to come today," said lightly the detective. "I am having a paperwork day. You are not doing paperwork anyway, so…" she smiled politely, with slight nod indicating the door.

Yes, polite and composed, that's how she intended to be. To keep their relations more professional and less personal.

"You are angry at me, Detective," observed Lucifer, making himself comfortable on the chair in front of her desk. He didn't even look at the direction of the door. "What happened?"

"Nothing," replied Chloe much too quickly. "And I am not angry."

Lucifer looked at her raising his eyebrows.

 _He knows when I am lying_ , thought the detective gloomily. She sighed, and let the polite smile fell down from her face. Forgetting coffee, she returned to her desk and faced him.

"I treat my work seriously. Yesterday, you simply left me in the middle of the operation. And you didn't even say that you are sorry." Her voice shivered unnecessarily at the end of the sentence. Well, that would be so much for keeping a professional distance.

"I am not sorry, I did what I had to," replied Lucifer with the earnest indignation in his voice. "However I acknowledge the fact, that there are reasons for you to be irritated," he added with consideration. "Doctor Martin says it is progress."

Chloe shook her head. "Listen, that it is my work. For you, it is just a hobby."

"I fail to see a problem with it."

"It is the matter of priorities," the detective started slowly. She didn't want to offend him, just to… put everything in the proper perspective. "Tell me, why do you want to work here? What is, for you, the most important part of this job?"

She knew the answer. For him, it was fun. An entertainment. Just like these extremal survival excursions for bored rich people. She had to make him acknowledge it and realise the difference between his and her approach. Only then he would understand her.

Lucifer considered her question for a moment.

"Well, I like working on cases. It is like solving the riddles, but with a thrill of excitement," he stated slowly, confirming her course of thinking. "And the guilty should be punished, I still like to see to it personally," he added with a strange edge in his voice. "But the most important reason? It is you."

"Sorry?" For a second the detective thought she misheard him.

"You. You are the priority. I want to work with you, to learn you better," he elaborated.

 _Why?_ Wanted to ask Chloe, but bit her tongue. No, she was not letting to make it personal.

He must have been referring to some findings from his therapy sessions. Perhaps Doctor Martin told him to develop relations with people or something like this. Or perhaps it was just about persuading her to have sex with him, that would be the simplest explanation. Anyway, she was not going to ask.

After a moment of awkward silence, Chloe cleared her throat and changed the subject in the most cowardly way, filling him in with the details of the progress in the case.

"The prosecutor will offer a deal to Derham today. Leniency in exchange for information. He would probably take it and we should do the whole drug gang down. That's very, very good. That Death's Door was in fact… death shit. However," she continued with a sigh, "he won't help us to solve Mitchell's case. Alex Derham evidently knows who killed him, but he won't talk. He said it was done by the competition and he won't inform against the other gang." Replying to a silent question in Lucifer's eyes she added: "He is in the state prison now, I won't settle you an appointment with him. Too risky. Any affair could spoil the deal."

"Right," nodded Lucifer and for a moment plunged into his thoughts. "Well, I guess that my timing yesterday was could be better. I should have been here during his interrogation. For this, I am sorry." For a moment, he looked almost guilty. "If I could make up for it, I would."

"Look, it is not bad," Chloe tried to console him. "We would eliminate the gang of the dealers. And who knows, perhaps Dan would come across some trail while cooperating with Benitez? The drug dealers in the whole city know much about themselves."

Lucifer ignored her remark about Dan, but suddenly raised his head, animated with the new idea:

"Than we should ask Margot to learn it for us. The dealers bought her products through Jeremy Mitchell. Now, with him dead, they would have no choice but turn directly to her. Before Derham spills out the information and you do the gang down, there is still time for her to learn who killed her partner."

"Oh, no," the detective shook her head. "We cannot ask anyone to spy on the drug dealers. It is dangerous."

"Don't you have informers? Like this Benitez that is working with the Douche? Or even Derham?"

 _He must have watched too many action movies_ , thought Chloe and tried to explain. "These are criminals, trying to earn lenient treatment. Margot Jensen is clean. And a civilian. We cannot endanger her. Besides, there are procedures. Even if we were to recruit her, I cannot take such decision on my own," Chloe smiled to sweeten her refusal, as Lucifer looked very disappointed. "I know you had good intentions, but the only thing I can do while waiting for Derham to take the deal, is doing my deal with due paperwork," Chloe stood up, to underline that the conversation on this subject is finished. "Look, now I am going to make myself a coffee and you can go to the LUX. I will call you if something happens."

Lucifer made some undefined sound, that could be treated as approval. Chloe nodded her goodbye and left to the kitchenette.

While she was waiting until her mug would be filled with the black liquid, the angry voice of her ex-husband sounded just behind her ear:

"I see you have made peace with your consultant. Hope you haven't forgotten how he ditched you yesterday?"

Chloe turned to face him. "I am only doing my work," she replied wearily.

"I just not want you to become the laughingstock of the precinct again."

Again. Chloe pressed her lips into the thin line.

"Never listen to the ex," laughed the girl from the forensic section, who was searching for something in the fridge. "Your consultant is hot. Nobody's laughing, everyone is jealous," she winked to Chloe and chuckled at Dan's angry puff.

"Listen, Dan," stated Chloe, silently blessing the girl, "Lucifer is not the problem. You are. Just… make up your mind. Either let me go and live my life, or… or let me know whether you want to work on fixing the things between us. If there is anything left to fix," she added bitterly. "But do not insult me."

Dan remained silent and Chloe prepared herself for some angry remark. However, to her surprise, his eyes softened and he said only: "You are right. I am sorry."

 _He is not a bad man_ , thought Chloe returning to her room. _He is nagging, but when I need him, he is always around._

However, as soon as she entered her room, she forgot all reflections concerning her ex-husband. To her surprise, Lucifer was still there, sitting on her chair and ending the phone call.

"…keep me informed. You may also contact Mazikeen."

"Lucifer," said Chloe very quietly, "tell me you haven't just done what I think you did."

"Oh? Well, I was talking with Margot but informed her specifically that I am passing her my personal request. Not the police commission," explained Lucifer with a serene smile.

Chloe carefully put the mug on her desk, trying not to spill the coffee even though her hands trembled slightly. "Lucifer, you are officially an LAPD consultant. You were calling from my phone, during working hours, in a matter that is related to the case we are working at. No one would call it a personal request."

"Don't worry, Detective. Margot is happy to oblige, but I assure you, not because she received the phone from the LAPD office," Lucifer smirked with indulgence.

"Let me guess - because she is the demon and you are the the King of Hell?"

"Precisely."

Her own chair still occupied by the self-procclaimed devil, Chloe sat heavily on the spare one, for a moment resting her head on the folders piling on her desk.

"Great. I will put it in the report after she would be murdered by the drug gang," she muttered. "Or perhaps Margot is also immortal, just like you?..." she couldn't help but chuckle. It sounded a bit hysterical.

"No, she is not," replied Lucifer with consideration, looking a bit affronted by her laughter. "And actually my own immortality is not something I would take for granted at the moment. However, no one is going to kill her, don't worry. She is not Mazikeen, but she still can safely cope with a few scoundrels."

Chloe imagined Margot Jensen, the middle-aged, dainty woman from well-groomed suburban house coping with the gang of drug dealers. She let her forehead fall on the desk and covering the head with her arms.

What did this girl in the kitchenette just say to her and Dan? That everyone envies her working with Lucifer? When Chloe was twelve, she used to walk out the their neighbor's' champion dog, the Great Dane. People at the street admired him and showered with compliments. However, no matter how splendid the dog was, the walks with him were troublesome at least. He was so strong, that she was barely able to keep him on a leash. When he got interested in something, he simply dragged her in that and she had no choice but to follow, praying that he wouldn't destroy anything.

That's exactly how she felt with Lucifer now.

"Ugh… Detective?" asked quietly Lucifer. "If you are intending to take a nap, I will leave to the LUX now."

"No," exclaimed quickly Chloe, raising her head. No matter how much she would like to, she couldn't spend the rest of the day hiding behind her desk. She had to do damage control. "You said you wanted to make up for yesterday, right?"

"Yes?..." Lucifer looked at her with slight hesitation. "Are you finally decided to take my offer of…"

"No, no. I don't want the best night of my life. I want this," Chloe pushed toward him the pile of folders. It wobbled dangerously, threatening to scatter. "Please. Order the documents in each folder, number the pages, make a list for each folder and return them to the archives."

Lucifer stared at her with disbelief. "You are joking, aren't you?... No?... What a devious woman you are…" He looked around and suddenly his disgusted expression turned into a hopeful one. "Well, I do not mind surrendering to the greater evil."

Chloe realized he probably spotted someone who would do her files for him, but at the moment she didn't care. She stood up, reached for her car keys and jacket.

"Where are you going?" asked Lucifer surprised.

"To talk with Margot Jensen. Alone," stressed Chloe, when he started to stand up as well. "You stay here, Prince of Darkness. I need to speak reasonably with her, your presence wouldn't help."

The consultant sent her a quizzical glance but sat back without further discussion. The detective looked with regret at the untouched coffee standing on her desk and left.

* * *

Chloe parked in front of the house of Margot Jensen. It looked as ordinary and boring as during her first visit. However, the detective was already prepared, that this would be a weird conversation and that was the main reason why she wanted to make it in person. Clearly Ms Jensen, despite her neat household, was – just like Lucifer - living in the world of illusions. The detective saw for herself, that her partner had problems with the sound judgement of the situation, taking excessive risks and endangering himself with recklessness bordering with madness. The detective was determined to prevent Margot from doing the same.

"Please, come in," Margot opened the door as soon as Chloe rang the doorbell and invited her inside. She was as sleek and elegant as during their first meeting. Her dark hair was combed in a chignon - not a hair sticking out of place. She was wearing a beige dress with a pearl necklace completing her image of the successful, but conservative business woman.

The detective couldn't decide, which of Lucifer's ideas was more absurd - that this woman was 'a demon' or that she should spy drug mob for them.

"Ms Jensen, I'd like to speak with you for a moment," the detective sat on the couch, while Margot sauntered toward the kitchen. "It is about the phone call you received today from my partner, Mr Morningstar. Oh, thank you!..." Chloe looked with surprise at the mug of coffee that Margot brought her from the kitchen. "That's very kind of you, I was dreaming about… but..." the detective stuttered for a moment, staring at the mug. "He called you informing about my visit, right?"

Margot smiled to her – with a delicate, gentle smile – and with the same graceful elegance sat in the armchair on the opposite side of the coffee table. "Yes. He told me to treat you with respect, be helpful and make you coffee," she replied matter-of-factly.

The detective took the sip and sighed. Respect. How very much Lucifer. And how difficult it would be to speak with Margot rationally. She decided to ignore whatever it was between Lucifer and Margot and take a direct approach.

"Ms Jensen, I am aware that my partner asked for your help, that could put you in a dangerous situation. He acted in good faith, but he shouldn't have done it. That's not how we work."

Margot only shook her head. Her composed expression didn't waver for a second. "Don't worry, Ms Decker. I will gladly help."

"You don't have to. And you definitely shouldn't," stressed Chloe. "I know, that such… operations may look attractive in the action movies, but reality looks entirely different. If you were to be… enlisted to help the LAPD, there would be certain safety procedures to follow and…"

"Ms Decker. I am not interested in the safety procedures," replied Margot with unchanged composure, adding after the moment of consideration. "With all due respect, of course."

"Ms Jensen," Chloe said a bit stronger than before, "my partner was not authorized to ask you for such favour, so please…"

"I told him I will be honoured to serve," Margot bowed her head in graceful gesture. "And I have settled everything with him."

 _Shit, does she think that it is a game? A continuation of some role play?_ Chloe bridled internally. She knew, that there was something alike between Lucifer and Maze, but Maze… Maze was a tough one. And this middle-aged, neat lady? Why was she so ready to jump into the danger?

Suddenly the detective thought about favours. Perhaps Margot Jensen owed Lucifer a favour… and now he was calling it in… But how could he have been so… so ruthless, how could he have endangered this woman's life with such cold-hearted recklessness? The remains of Chloe's patience vanished.

"To start with, he is not Voldemort, he has a name," the detective said angrily irritated by the reverence with which Margot spoke "he" each time. "Lucifer Morningstar. I know it may sound stupid, but…" She stopped, seeing the expression of absolute terror on Margot's face, suddenly ash-paled with eyes wide with fear.

Apparently, the members of Lucifer's demons club didn't take well calling his name stupid.

The detective sighed wearily. "Fine, for the sake of this conversation we may agree that he is Voldemort. No matter. What is important, Ms Jensen, is that you cannot take any individual actions against drug mob, even if they contact you. If you would like me to call… my partner and confirm it, I can do it."

Somehow, these words finally reached Margot Jensen, breaking her composed exterior. The woman rapidly tilted back her head and inhaled sharply.

"Please, don't," she said quickly. "I was going to do it anyway. If he forbids… I would find it difficult to obey."

"Why?" asked quietly Chloe.

"For Jeremy," replied Margot in the same way.

Chloe blinked, hearing Mitchell's name. Somehow, in all this, she forgot about him.

"You said you were friends. You were close."

"Yes."

The detective recalled her first meeting with Margot Jensen, how she judged her to be a cold and egoistic woman, who so scornfully spoke about Dorothy Mitchell's affections… Now she saw that Ms Jensen was more complicated than that, but she also remembered Dorothy and her 'greatest desire', the envy and hate that poisoned even her grief after her husband…

"Jeremy had a wife. She didn't feel comfortable with your relations," she said more sharply than she intended.

"I do not care," bridled Margot, for a moment grimacing in a way that bare the rows of small, even teeth. "Jeremy didn't betray his wife… with his body. I do not need to have sex with a man to claim him."

 _Dorothy Mitchell said that she would prefer her husband had a lover_ , Chloe recalled and shivered. Now, looking at Margot Jensen, she had no doubts that this woman knew how to claim and keep a man, even abstaining from carnal closeness. The detective noticed some subtle change in Ms Jensen that occurred in the last moments of their conversation. Her dress and heir were still neat and elegant, but the calm politeness disappeared from her eyes. Suddenly, her expression and posture oozed with such confidence that for a moment she reminded Chloe about Maze.

For a small second, the detective felt grateful that Lucifer asked this woman to treat her with respect, but then she quickly pushed this thought aside.

She had to concentrate on her reasons for coming here.

"Ms Jensen… Margot, we need to speak openly," she started, trying to return to the subject. "I do understand your emotions, but…" before she found the right words to continue, Margot looked at her with sudden interest:

"Can we be open? Did he tell you about me? What I am?" she asked in such tone, that Chloe had no doubt that 'he' refers to Lucifer again.

Chloe shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "Yes… I guess… This 'demon' thing, right?" she replied, feeling very stupid and unsure how to accent the 'demon' word, so that she would neither offend Margot, whatever her phantasies were, nor ridiculed herself too much – if these phantasies were only in Lucifers's head.

However, Margot hearing her answer was neither offended, not amused. On the contrary, she evidently relaxed.

"You are taking it very well, Ms Decker," she praised, looking at Chloe with recognition. "But of course a woman standing by his side must be fearless."

The detective blushed, more flustered by Margot's suggestion than intrigued by her words, but before she managed to object, the women started to speak again.

"Well then, Ms Decker, in such case I can explain to you my… emotions. You see," Margot hesitated slightly, looking around her living room as if searching for inspiration, "humans make so many… bonds. You love, befriend, like, value… You have parents, siblings, children, friends… You even care for your animals. You like your neighbours and get accustomed to the clerks in the shops. You… have so many emotions that you… dissipate them," the woman spat the last words with anger. Then she turned to straight to Chloe, her eyes now deep and dark. "We… we have nothing like this. Our hearts remain barren for millennia. That's why when we meet someone… who make us feel… we feel… so much stronger…" she finished with a whisper, for a moment turning her head away.

Chloe thought the woman tries to hide tears and this simple gesture washed away all the discomfort that Margot's words might have caused. Yes, she was delusional, true. But all Chloe saw in front of herself was a grieving woman, even if she was trying to hide behind some phantasies.

Driven by impulse, she reached to her and squeezed her hand with compassion.

Margot jerked, snatching her hand away. Her eyes weren't filled with tears, only blazing.

"They killed… Jeremy," she hissed. "The man that made me… feel. They took from me something I considered mine… Something that was mine!" she repeated, barring her teeth again.

Chloe sat in silence, waiting for Margot to calm down a bit. She knew she lost her battle here. There wouldn't be a reasonable conversation with Margot Jensen.

Being the one who brings the sad news to the victim's relatives or the one who exposes the culprit, the detective has seen many outbursts of despair, passion or fury… There was nothing that unique in Margot Jensen's violent reaction. However… the detective remembered their first conversation. _'I know that Jeremy is dead…I imported for him extracts and venoms. Apart from that, we were friends, that's all,'_ stated Margot Jensen only, seeming so… oblivious, whereas deep inside she must have been boiling with the same rage she let to resurfaced now.

How was it possible, that someone could hide such deep feelings behind the seemingly indifferent exterior?

Margot Jensen was strong and passionate. She certainly didn't dissipate her emotions. She hid and nourished them, letting them grow stronger and stronger… Nothing that Chloe could say would convince her to act against them.

"So, Ms Decker, do not talk to him. Regardless of everything, I need to find Jeremy's murderers," finished Margot. The missing words 'and make them pay' hung unspoken in the air.

Chloe Decker just nodded her head. "Ms Jensen, whatever you are going to do, it won't be the LAPD approved operation," she stated a bit formally, standing up, and added gently. "Please, be careful."

Margot Jensen didn't reply, but made a small gesture with her hand as if indicating, that she is pushing away Chloe's care, just as she had earlier thrust away her compassion.

* * *

In spite of her plans, Chloe didn't return to the office after the conversation with Margot Jensen. Instead, she received the phone call from the prosecutor's office and drove there to learn the details of the deal. Alex Derham was going to give them a lot: the names and addresses allowing to get the whole gang and their laboratory. In a few days, they would be able to carry on the arrests – a big success on Chloe's account, that should open the new perspectives for her, even if Palmetto case would never be explained.

And yet, Chloe wasn't fully satisfied. Derham didn't want to speak about the competition. He didn't give any details concerning Mitchell's death, apart from what he already told at the precinct. He also revealed no details of 'the stunt' that was the reason of his so unnecessary death, so very likely somewhere in the city, another crime remained undiscovered.

Neither the prosecutor nor the detective understood his approach. After all, he was already a snitch, bringing down his own gang. What difference would it make, if he spoke also about the others? Yet they weren't able to make him change his mind. Chloe started to accept, that perhaps part of her case would not ever be solved and the LAPD may not be able to identify Mitchell's murderers. Of course, she had little hope in Margot's intervention. Her last real hope was the rest of the gang – dealers that were going to be arrested based on Derham's statement.

While the detective was driving home, her thoughts returned to the conversation with Margot. Somehow, she couldn't help but wonder, how was it possible that man like Jeremy developed such strange relation. Of course, she never met Jeremy Mitchell, when he was alive, but he appeared… so average. Middle-aged man, not handsome and not ugly, working his life in a small herbal shop, living a simple and safe life of comfort … She imagined him to be kind and naïve.

 _One could say there was nothing special about him…_ thought Chloe with a sad smile. Well, as the detective, she should know better than to judge people by the outer shell. _The neatest houses sometimes can hide the greatest dramas._

She was ready to call it a day and enjoy quiet private evening, but when she reached her own house, there was a surprise waiting for her in front of it: the black Corvette and her owner, also clothed in black from the tips of his shoes to the handkerchief in the pocket of his jacket, the dark colours so sharply cutting off from the bright walls of the building, that for a moment they looked almost ethereal. Chloe was surprised with the wave of the mixed feelings at his sight: curiosity, excitement but also something… something very close to anxiety. Now she realized, why she spent so much time in the prosecutor's office. Somehow, after the conversation with Margot, she preferred to avoid him for the rest of the day.

The detective carefully parked her car in the appointed place, prolonging the manoeuvre, to delay the moment when she had to leave the vehicle. Finally, she had to near to the Corvette. Of course, Lucifer placed it in the most nonchalant manner, blocking a good part of the street and the driveway to her home.

"Lucifer? What are you doing here?" she asked, probably a bit too sharply. After all, this time he was waiting in front of the house, instead of breaking in.

"Hello, Detective! How was the conversation with Margot?" called Lucifer, grinning so smugly that at the moment Chloe would do anything to wipe this smirk from his face. Of course, he knew, that her conversation with Ms Jensen was in vain. Damn Voldemort.

For a second they eyed each other in a silent staring contest.

"She is not doing it for you, only for Jeremy," Chloe replied finally, unwilling to directly admit the failure. "She cared for him."

"Yes, so she did, how unusual…" sighed Lucifer, as if he was marvelling at this fact.

Well, he didn't even rub his victory too much. Still, Chloe's discomfort didn't disperse. Why, all of a sudden, did she started to feel so strange in his presence?

"And what about my files?"

"All done, thanks to the invaluable help of dear Frankie from the office," he winked to her. "And now, as you have a free evening, I came to take you for a drink. You look sad, Detective, you need entertainment."

"No thank you. I have a daughter to take care of."

"The man you unwisely chose to procreate with prattled about taking your offspring to the cinema today."

"I forgot," Chloe, confused, lowered her eyes. She didn't forget, that it was the Dan's day with Trixie. She just… didn't want to go with Lucifer for a drink. Well, she didn't have to search for pretexts, she could simply openly refuse.

"Come, Detective, let me take you to the LUX. Just one drink," he purred and coaxed with a slight challenge in his voice. "Oh, do not be afraid of Maze, she will behave."

"I am not afraid of her," bridled Chloe. " And I am not..."

 _I am not running away._ The echo of her nightmare sounded in her head.

Wasn't that just what she willing to do? Why she was feeling so awkward? Didn't she want to step aside? Run away? Didn't this day convince her it would be the wisest thing to do?

Perhaps. But still, it would be against her nature.

"Lovely," commented Lucifer and Chloe realized that somehow she took place in the Corvette and he was already starting the engine, heading the car toward the LUX.

The detective shook her head, trying to push the unsettling associations aside. Today happened nothing, that should worry her. Lucifer was no more than a handsome and eccentric man, a playboy, so interested in her only because she was probably the last woman in Los Angeles, whom he hadn't scored yet. That's all.

Only that… how did he phrase it? These simple words, that were the true reason of her anxiety, that made her feel… so awkward?

_You are the priority._

It was good that she was an atheist. That she didn't believe in the beyond, Heaven and Hell, all these devils, angels, demons… in all these inexplicable forces and overwhelming emotions.

Because if she did believe…

_When we meet someone… who make us feel…_

Oh, if she did believe in all this, she would be lost.


	8. Taking the wider road

The guy responsible for styling the outfits during undercover operations measured Chloe with a careful glance and nodded.

"That will do. You look cheap," he judged with such tone as if he was complimenting her. "Just add some crappy makeup. Make sure to overdo the mascara."

"Okay," nodded Chloe, searching the box with makeup utensils for the lipstick that would be pink enough. She was happy that the stylist let her stay in her own clothes, instead of forcing on her some stuff from his magazine. On the morning she specifically chose the baggiest jeans and jumper she found in her wardrobe.

"But your partner needs to change."

Lucifer stood at the corridor, clothed and groomed with no less than his usual perfection. In spite of the distance, he heard the stylist and turned to him blinking with surprise.

"I will find you something in a second. Unkempt and cheap, that's how you need to look like," explained the guy at the unspoken question.

"Did I just hear the blasphemy?" muttered Lucifer, entering the room. His eyes widened at the view of the basket full of washed-out jeans and training suits. Chloe knew that they came from the precinct magazine, but they looked more like garment sale in the second-hand shop. "I can change but I am not going to wear rugs."

"That's fine, really. He does not need to change," intervened Chloe, feeling every way like a Jedi, trying to mind trick the poor stylist.

It didn't work.

"I am just trying to do my job. From what I heard, you are to walk around some dodgy motel without paying attention," defended the man. "In case of troubles, your story is that you are trying to buy drugs. Does he," the man pointed a bit dramatically at Lucifer, who replied with a flashing smile, "look like the guy trying to buy drugs in the cheap motel?"

"Of course not! I never buy drugs in the motels. Usually, I..."

"Do not tell in the middle of the police station," interrupted Chloe and turned against to the stylist: "Look, there is no need. He will stay behind."

"Most certainly I will not!"

Chloe stopped herself from rolling her eyes again. She could do it. She had, after all, experience with children. For Heaven's Sake, she had organized childer party once! Sending the calming smile both to the stylist and to Lucifer, she repeated: "No need to fuss. Lucifer would do just fine, he could buy drugs anywhere if he wanted. Everything's going to be fine."

* * *

Everything was going to be fine. Perhaps it was not going to be a walk in the park, but the chances of success were high enough so that she could feel more excited than anxious. Adrenaline high in her veins, Chloe was in that special state of mind and body just before the action, concentrated and ready.

Based on Derham's statement, the SWAT unit was to raid the laboratory. On the same time, the LAPD was to arrest the dealers, that should be hiding in the motel "Albatross". The only problem was that "The Albatross" was a big and cheap motel at the city outskirts, consisting of few buildings, surrounded by garages and storage accommodations, all these without proper surveillance. There was no way that the police would manage to close the whole area. Therefore, tonight a few detectives were to search the motel in undercover, trying to locate the dealers and pass the number of their room to the squad responsible for the arrest, waiting in a safe distance from the motel.

Chloe took it as a point of honour to be the one who would locate the suspects. She studied the plans of the buildings for hours, trying to decide, which part would be the most likely for the dealers to chose as their hiding. Finally, she decided it would be the building with side entrance situated behind the reach of security cameras.

_Perfect for ones whose customers have something to hide,_ she thought with satisfaction. _They must be here._

The detective assigned these part of "The Albatross" to be searched for herself, leaving the rest for other detectives – and Lucifer, as to avoid attention, the detectives were to check the place not in pairs but individually. She felt a bit guilty choosing for her partner the area that was the least likely to be the one chosen by the criminals: the ground floor of the main building, just behind the lodge, monitored both by the motel and by the street surveillance. It was perhaps a bit unfair, but a necessary precaution. This time, the detectives were not to engage in interactions, but only to locate the suspects. It required consideration and discretion and Lucifer was all but these. His idea of searching for the suspects was most probably to burst into the motel calling: "Hello, nasty dealers! Where are you?" So, Chloe, turning his reluctance against paperwork against him, decided to study the buildings plans alone and took the single-handed decision to send him he wouldn't do any harm.

"Do not take your car, Chlo," advised Dan, peeking into her room. He was allocated to the squad responsible for the arrest. "You used him in the last action, and during Derham's arrest. They might have noticed and associated it with the LAPD."

Chloe nodded in agreement.

"And your car is too distinctive," Dan said to Lucifer, eyeing the taller man with a certain reluctance. "You both can drive with us, we will put you down in some distance from the motel."

Lucifer measured Dan with mocking glance. "Not happening as long as you are treating your car like dustbin for junk food containers," he replied and drawled: "Do not worry, Dear Douche. I will park in some dark corner."

Chloe smiled to Dan apologizingly. However, she couldn't help but recall how messy the inside of Dan's car usually was, one more cause of their quarrels. _One more of these stupid little things that ruined our marriage,_ she thought sadly. _Well, no matter, not now._ _Now we all have job to do._

Seeing that Lucifer is ready, she cast one last glance to the mirror – yes, the makeup was crappy enough – and took her bag, heading for the elevator.

"But… Chlo?..." she heard Dan calling behind her when they were stepping into the cabin. The doors were already swooshing to close and she barely managed to cast a quick glance at her ex-husband. Why did he look so… disappointed? Has she done something?

Ah. He thought she would be driving with him, instead with Lucifer.

Enough strangely, but she didn't even consider this option.

* * *

They arrived at "The Albatross" from the backside. Chloe started to fear that perhaps Lucifer drove a bit too near to the target, pulling the car almost under the motel's windows. This Corvette was, after all, distinctive. Luckily when they reached suitable parking place, the street lanterns over them flickered a few times and went out.

_Perfect,_ thought Chloe, seeing that the car was barely visible in the darkness.

"Seems we have luck," she said to her partner. "Let's hope it sticks to us. You sure you know what to do?"

"I am not dense, Detective," he replied, quite harshly for him. "Cannot we go together?"

"Two people walking together arise more suspicions," Chloe shook her head. She reached for the plan of the motel with tagged sections marked on them and lightened them with her phone, to make sure that Lucifer knew where he needed to go.

"The other policemen would be alone as well. You know it is not about getting these men down, right? There is a squad that would do it. All we need is to spot them. Avoid confrontation. If somebody asks you, make some story. I am sure you will manage," the detective smiled encouragingly.

"Yes I will, will you?" muttered her partner, casting a quick glance at the plans.

Chloe frowned, for moment wondering, why Lucifer got so cranky. Yesterday they had a perfectly friendly evening in the LUX, conversing on some light subjects over a few drinks. Lucifer appeared absolutely at ease, Maze kept her distance and nothing strange happened. Today she manoeuvred him through the preparations to the operations without any bigger misunderstandings. Why this bad humour now? For a second Chloe thought he read her little trick. Well, it was her decision and she had the right to take it.

"Something's wrong?" she asked a bit challengingly. After all, she was leading their team. And she was done with men patronizing her.

Lucifer turned to her. His expression was not angry, or patronizing, only absolutely confused.

"I have no idea, Detective," he said shaking his head. "I just have such a strange feeling… yet I cannot decipher it… Ah, let's go," he cut off the conversation, getting quickly out of the car before she managed to ask further questions.

* * *

The corridors in the motel were placed outside the building, running under the windows. The detective slowly walked through her part of the building, passing one door after another. It was dark, so lights behind the windows were indicating, whether the rooms were occupied. In such case, she tried to peek inside a thought the hole between curtains, or listen to the sounds coming from inside. From Durham she knew, that there should be three men engaged in dealing. Considering the hour, it was a big chance they would all be at the room, receiving customers. Such guests should be easy to notice.

Chloe corrected her clothes. The last time she wore them must have been after Trixie's birth when her body was still returning to the shape. Now, hanging around her, they fulfilled the goal of making her look haggard, but she felt uncomfortable. She pushed her badge deeper into the pocket, preventing it from slipping out. Well, at least the gun was fastened securely to her ankle.

The loud conversation in one of the rooms pulled her attention. She couldn't make out words but heard a few men talking and laughing. The shutters were pulled down and the curtains securely drawn…

_Bingo,_ thought Chloe with a smile. She stopped for a moment, observing the room, to make sure that she was as right.

The door opened and Chloe flattened herself to the wall, to remain unnoticed. The young man went out and, without looking aroung, strode quickly toward the parking.

_A customer,_ noted the detective.

"Come in," sounded the man's voice and Chloe realized that one of the dealers went out from the room. He was looking straight at her. "Well, stop hiding, chick. Come in. I know what you came for."

The detective kept straight face, fighting the stress under control. They simply thought she was another customer. She could manage this.

"Yeah," she said stepping inside. "Hi."

The detective looked around the room, internally smirking because all three dealers were present. Great, the LAPD would get them all at once. Two of them, now staring at her, were sitting on the couch. On the table in front of them nothing but a few bottles of beer. However, the detective immediately spotted the black sports bag on one of the beds – the first place she would check searching for the drugs.

The man who invited her to the room, pushed her a bit further inside, closing the door behind her.

"What is it going to be?" asked the man who invited her.

Okay, she would buy something, getting ultimate confirmation that these are the men the LAPD was looking for, and go her way, without alerting them about the trap. "Uhm… I have fifty bucks," she said, trying to appear hesitant.

As expected, the man headed for the bag and opened the zipper. The detective made a step forward, trying to see the content when she felt a hand squeezing her buttock.

"Care for a special discount?" the man from the couch leered at her.

The detective fought the instinct of knocking the fist into his nose. "No," she said instead grabbing his wrist to remove his hand from her behind.

"Come on," the man sneaked the hand higher under her blouse. Chloe winced, feeling the touch on the naked skin. "You want to have some fun." He tried to pull her on the couch and Chloe twisted violently pushing him back.

"Get lost," she snapped, freeing herself. "I just want to…"

She stopped feeling that in the hustle something heavy slipping out of her pocket, falling on the floor, just under the feet of the dealer…

Her badge.

_Fuck,_ she thought and heard the dealers shouting the same, meaning that they noticed the badge as well. She rapidly leant to reach the gun hidden by her ankle, but the man behind her was quicker, grabbing her hair and crashing her forehead over the table. The pain dazed her, the vision blackened and she slumped down for a moment.

"A fucking cop."

Chloe felt them dragging her to her feet, someone twisting her arms behind her. One of the dealers stepped in front of her. She blinked a few times to regain the clarity of vision and tried to struggle off the daze.

"What are you doing here? Where are the others?"

Chloe let her head fell down on the chest, pretending she slumped down again, and then straightened rapidly, kicking the man in front of her in the groin. He fell down with a loud moan. Satisfied, she immediately jerked her head to the rear, trying to hit the face of the man keeping her arms. She heard him cursing, but he didn't let her off and before she managed to try something else, she felt the blade pressing her throat with such strength that the blood started to drip on her blouse.

The knife was kept by the third dealer, now standing in front of her, in place of his colleague, slowly grambling from the floor.

"Stand still, bitch," he said. "And talk."

The threat of the knife pressed painfully into her flesh, forced Chloe to stop fighting. She tried to grip the fear into control and find a way out of the situation. So far, the dealers didn't know they were targeted by the police and it would be best to keep them from learning it. If they believed that she was alone, at least they wouldn't try to take her as a hostage. Chloe quickly considered risks. These men were aggressive, but she didn't think they would try to kill the cop just like that. They would fear consequences. If she managed to convince them that her presence here was accidental and she posed no further risks…

"I was checking this motel," she replied slowly. "That's all. Now, I really am a cop, so better keep your hands off me."

_Mistake,_ she realized at the moment she finished speaking. The face of the man in front of her twisted in the angry scowl.

"One of these fucking bitches that nose around? Just a few days ago another like you sent a good guy to prison," he growled, not withdrawing the knife from her face.

_Alex Derham,_ thought the detective, _Anne and the girls, they were recognized as undercover. Oh God, I would need to warn them._ That is if she managed to get out of this. Chloe felt the wave of fear. It didn't look good. The man keeping her was painfully twisting her hands, the one in front of her pressing the knife so that her blood was dripping over the edge and looking at her with such hate, that she wasn't so sure whether they weren't going to kill her anymore.

No, no. There was no use if giving into fear. She would wait for a suitable moment and fight.

"You know what? You won't show your face here any longer," then the man in front of her stepped even closer and grabbed her hair at the neck. Twisting her head, he pressed the knife to her cheek, just near the ear. "I will sign you."

Chloe cried, feeling sharp pain and the warm trickle of blood run down her face.

"No, stop. She will be bloody like a pig." It was the other man, the one whom she kicked down. The one who leered at her at the beginning. Now he raised to his feet and stared at her again. "You cut her when I finish with her."

He stepped in front of her, taking the knife from his companion and Chloe, despite her resolve, sunk in panic, seeing his expression. She wanted to call for help, but after her the first sound the man placed a big palm over her mouth. Keeping the knife in the second hand, he started to cut her jumper, tugging in up and down, tearing the fabric and occasionally catching the skin.

Chloe writhed, cursing herself for the sob of pain she didn't manage to stifle. She was not going to cry. She going to give these tugs satisfaction. She would wait for a moment to free herself and then…

Behind her back, the door slammed. Chloe heard the third dealer, the one who wasn't occupied by holding her, curse – and she realized that her moment may have just come. Something rumbled and the man who was cutting her blouse, stepped back, following his companion. The detective immediately twisted, freeing one hand. She hooked the knee of the man holding her and used her second arm as leverage to throw him down. The dealer landed on the floor with the most satisfying thud and Chloe, finally free, dealt a well-aimed kick into his face. Seeing that he was still trying to scramble from the ground, she repeated the kick, barely restraining herself from the third blow, after noticing that the man fall limply on the floor. Instead, she turned on the spot to check the situation behind her.

The situation behind her was stable.

One of the dealers was lying motionless on the floor, the wall over him seriously cracked and the other one, conscious and relatively unharmed was being held in place by Lucifer, writhing desperately to break away from his grasp. Lucifer barely paid attention to his struggle, his eyes fixed on Chloe with a silent question.

The detective took a shaky breath, trembling with anger and adrenaline. The man held by her partner was the one who cut her clothes and chest. _The one who didn't want to rape her bleeding like a pig._ Chloe moved her eyes to Lucifer and met his sight hoping, that – even if she didn't tell – he would somehow simply know, what was that she desired.

And he did.

Lucifer smirked knowingly and with an approving nod released the man, pushing him slightly toward Chloe.

Luckily the dealer was stupid enough to launch himself at Chloe, probably hoping to take her as a hostage. That made things easier. Now she could without remorse punch him in the solar plexus and when he crouched, use her elbow to smash his nose. The man tried to swing at her, but she dodged. Two swift and well-aimed blows into his jaw sent him unconscious.

After that the detective for a moment stood motionless, hearing in silence only her own heavy breaths, looking at unconscious men and avoiding Lucifer's sight. Het cuts and bruises started to pain and she became all too aware of her battered appearance. Crooking her head, she let her hair fell down to cover at least the wounded cheek. She didn't want to look… defeated.

Suddenly, all the emotions she didn't acknowledge in the fight, fell over her in a total mess. She felt angry and scared. Yes, now she was scared. These men could have hurt her or killed, all because of some stupid coincidence. And she felt ashamed and humiliated, so ashamed of her idiotic foul-up, and so humiliated because of these men treating her like a piece of meat, and because she never, ever wanted to be saved by anyone.

"What are you doing here?" she snapped to Lucifer, not able to hide the anger. "I told you to go to another building." Oh, damn, how terribly it sounded. She should thank him. Hug him, perhaps cry to ease the tension. But her eyes were dry and her emotions were boiling.

"Well, you did," replied lightly Lucifer, to her immense relief sounding like his usual self, as if nothing happened. "But when I was in the middle of this senseless walk you entrusted to me, I understood what was this strange feeling gnawing me. I realized I was worried, Detective, worried about you," he said with a grin, that stripped all potential gravity from his words. "I was tempted to follow you, and you know my attitude toward temptation. So, this time, instead of humouring you with fulfilling my fruitless assignment, I decided to humour myself and search for you."

Somehow he sounded as if it was all about himself. Damn, he knew her well. The feeling of humiliation eased a bit and Chloe took a deep breath, feeling her pulse slowing into a normal pace.

"I am glad that you did," she admitted with a slight smile. "What about this one?" the detective pointed at the man lying under the cracked wall. What a shitty motel it was, this wall must have been made of cardboard. "You didn't hit him too hard?"

"Oh, no. I am afraid he will be fine," replied Lucifer with distraction and very slowly neared to her. He moved so gently, that Chloe didn't back when he reached to move aside her hair, revealing the cut on her face and scratches on her chest.

"Oh, Detective," he sighed, slightly brushing the trail of blood on her cheek with his fingertips with unspeakable tenderness in his eyes.

And then, in surprising contrast to the previous gentleness, he rapidly tilted, shutting his eyes and turning back.

"You have a problem with looking at the blood?" asked Chloe, worried.

"No," he replied, but she must have been right because he was still turned back and his voice sounded strangled.

"There is nothing to be ashamed of, plenty of peopled have it," observed Chloe, trying to wipe out the blood with the remains of her jumper, to ease his discomfort. "Well, let's call our strike squad. Not that there is much work for them left."

"Do we really need to call them, Detective?" asked Lucifer very quietly and there was some begging undertone in his voice. He slowly turned back to her, but still avoided meeting her sight.

"Of course," Chloe shrugged her shoulders and tried to gather the remains of her blouse around her. Now, when she thought about meeting other policemen, her insecurity returned. Damn, she did look miserable. "Shit, I hate to let them see me like this."

Blood was the slightest problem. Her jumper was ragged into shreds. Everyone would know it was practically cut off from her. Once again, she tried to arrange the fabric again, her movements getting a bit hectic.

"Come on, Detective," commented Lucifer, observing her efforts. "I know you have no reasons to think high about your corrupted colleagues, but you cannot believe that they would get excited seeing you like this when they can watch the movie with the clean and unhurt version," he snorted, but still took off his jacket and handed it to her.

"No, thank you," Chloe refused taking it. "It would be even worse if I went out in your clothes. And it is not about getting excited, of the movie – thanks for bringing it on, though," the detective bitterly thought about all these Decker-do-not-like-to-stay-in-her-clothes jokes she was going to hear. "It is about… " she hesitated and shook her head, in a loss of words. "You won't understand."

It was about being weak and he wouldn't understand it, no matter how observant he was, he wouldn't know how it was to be a woman trying to make a career in the men's job.

Chloe shrugged her shoulders, searched for her bag and retrieved the phone. Only after a few vain trials to unlock it, she realised how her hand trembled. She shouldn't have talked to Lucifer, she should have called earlier, once her adrenaline was still high. Now, after the turmoil of angsty emotions fell down, she felt deadly tired.

And there was still so much to go through.

_They would send me to the hospital_ , Chloe thought gloomily. She hated hospitals. Battered like this, looking every way like the victim, she would have to waiting in the E.R. for examination and dressing and it would take hours till they would let her out.

And then probably she would be asked to see the shrink 'to help her cope with the after- effects of sexual attack'. As if there could be better therapy than the sound of the nose of this sod crunching under her elbow.

"So just call the team and leave," observed Lucifer. "No one needs to see you. I will wait here and hand them over."

"I shouldn't," Chloe shook her head. "That would be unprofessional. There are procedures..."

"Leave it to me," insisted her partner. "Go and wait in for me the car. I will join you in a few minutes and we would ride to the LUX, find you some clothes… You will get a shower, a drink or two and return safely home in no more than two hours."

Damn, that was tempting. No hospital, no questions. No pitiful glances from her colleagues, no troublesome concern from Dan… No jokes… No frightening Trixie with calling the babysitter to tell that 'mammy must wait in the hospital a few hours'.

"Let me take care of everything here and then we would together take care about you," Lucifer encouraged her with the most charming smile, manoeuvring her toward the doors. "Just give me a second and everything will be settled. Give me that phone. I will call."

After all, she wouldn't do anything forbidden. Just use the help of the friend to avoid unnecessary commotion. "Just call the backup immediately, okay?" reminded Chloe, slipping the phone into his hand. "Promise?"

What was supposed to be a rhetorical question, awkwardly hung in the air. The detective turned to her partner with a suspicious glance. "Promise that you won't do anything to them, or I am staying."

"But they deserve…" Lucifer – charming smile gone – bridled angrily, but Chloe stopped him.

"No more people in the asylum, do you promise?" she stressed sharply the last word.

"Yess," Lucifer sighed, prolonging the word into a hiss, his eyes narrowed in irritation. "Do not worry, Detective. And take this, please." Almost angrily he pushed his jacket into her hands again. This time Chloe took it and after getting out of motel change into it, pushing the remains of her blouse into the rubbish dump.

* * *

The detective didn't know how long was she sitting in the car, surrounded by darkness, waiting for Lucifer to come. She wasn't scared or angry anymore, only terribly tired. And she couldn't shake off the feeling she is doing something wrong.

"What did you tell them?" she asked as soon as her partner appeared.

"Truth," replied obliviously Lucifer, starting the engine. "That the fight was inevitable, you kicked a few asses and needed to clean and change yourself."

Chloe considered cautiously each word she heard.

"It is truth," she repeated slowly, "and yet it sounds like a lie."

Lucifer looked at her with a half-smile, not his trademark overconfident grin, but entirely different, cryptic and bitter, the expression she never saw by him.

"Truth can be the most sophisticated of lies, Detective," he said quietly and it sounded like a confession.

Chloe knew he would have said something more if she asked him, yet she preferred not to explain, what exactly did he want to confide. She closed her eyes, resting her head on the seat and remained silent during the remaining ride to the LUX.

Why did she have a feeling as if she has just made some choice, a bad choice? It was no big deal, just using the help of a friend, to make her life a bit easier. She was usually so adamant on facing everything the life brought her, day by day, good or bad… This one time, for a change, she could do something just because… just because she wanted it.

And it was not that she was bonding herself with him in any way.

He simply offered help and she accepted it.

No big deal.

* * *

They entered the LUX through the back entrance. A few bouncers and staff members saw them, but paid no attention as if there was nothing strange in their boss returning with the woman wearing no more than his jacket and blood-stained jeans.

"I have no first-aid at my place," recalled Lucifer just in front of the elevator. "I will take it from the club."

The detective decided to wait for him. After all, one could never know who would be currently visiting Lucifer's apartment. However, she regretted it immediately, because just after her partner disappeared in the club, from the dark corridor emerged his barmaid bodyguard. Chloe was not afraid of her, but she had enough of kicking asses for one day.

Of course, Maze made a beeline for the detective, watching Chloe from head to toe with deliberate insolence. "Huh, I see that the fun started early today," she observed mockingly. "And somebody here likes it rough."

Of course, Maze looked perfect. Her makeup, hair, leather costume. And Chloe… Chloe was not going to be intimidated. She took a deep breath and straightened. "Yeah, a few guys actually. They got exactly what they liked," she said challengingly.

Maze raised the eyebrows, looking at the bruises and cuts on Chloe's face. However, her sight changed from sneering to scrutinizing. "Good," she nodded shortly, to the detective's utmost surprise. "The knife wounds heal quickly and leave little scars," the barmaid added obliviously and went her way.

Surprised, Chloe looked behind her for a moment. _Seems that the ice was broken,_ she thought with a smirk.

* * *

Chloe didn't like Lucifer's bathroom. It was huge but, like in the hotel rooms, always prepared for guests, with the stock of fresh unused towel and cosmetics. _Just as if any second a horde of strangers might need to use it_ , thought sneeringly Chloe, knowing well that this was exactly the case. In Lucifer's apartment his personal space was the piano and the library, all the rest was aimed to entertain the crowds of guests that visited it freely each time of the day and night.

_But this time he locked the elevator,_ thought the detective, surprised with the satisfaction she felt recalling it.

She gladly washed off the blood and sweat, feeling as if the water rinsed also her the stress and fatigue. Once she stepped out of the shower, she felt composed and shivered only at the recollection of her stupid foul-up.

The cuts on her body sting, but the deepest one was on her cheek. Chloe decided to apply paper stitches on it, to avoid a visible scar. Not that the scar would be such a tragedy, she already had some. Her sight ran to the scar on her shoulder, a reminder of Jimmy Barnes. Apart from that, she had a year old, barely visible scar left by the broken glass, she got during the standard intervention in the barroom fight. The incident itself was meaningless, but somehow it prolonged her marriage for a few months. She and Dan already were having problems and shortly before that started to discuss the separation. However, when she landed in the hospital, Dan was very concerned. All of a sudden, he had time for her, so worried and caring… Actually, he was very sweet. She almost believed then that the could make it. They started the therapy and for a few months, it was better, before it became worse again.

Chloe lowered her sight to the floor, wondering what would happen if she had waited for Dan and his squad tonight, what would happen if he saw her after her fight in these bloodied and torn clothes. He would be worried. He would certainly insist on taking her to hospital. And if someone said some stupid joke about her, he would overreact, as usual. Dan couldn't accept her strength and independence, but when she needed him, he was always there to help.

Who knows, perhaps he would be so sweet and caring once again. Perhaps she would enjoy it. Perhaps this could change something.

Still, it didn't happen.

She reached for the clothes that Lucifer found for her: black leggings – strange, but somehow she did hope that they belonged to Maze, not to one of his many admirers that used to freely scatter their garments in his apartment – and one of his black shirts. For a moment she frowned at the choice. Somehow, she expected him to give her something ridiculously tight, red and sexy, not the shirt that on her was long enough to cover her tights.

Now she realized, that – except from rather innocent, according to his standards, remark about her embarrassing movie - he didn't say even one innuendo for the whole evening. And the clothes were simply left it under the door without the slightest suggestion, that she should let him into the bathroom.

That was not like Lucifer at all.

If it had been anyone but him, she would have assumed that her host was thoughtful. Careful not to hurt the feelings of the woman who was threatened by rape. However, Lucifer was never thoughtful. He had no respect for any decorum and mostly didn't understand even his own feelings, not mentioning being emphatic to the others.

_He is giving up his image,_ thought Chloe with a smile because she realized that much of Lucifer's boisterous and exhibitionistic persona was a way to hide overgrowing emotions.

'I was worried about you.' The way he said it suggested that it was something reproachful, but what mattered was that he cared about her. With the sting of anxiety, she recalled, that he said also something else, something a bit off, what worried her, but at the moment she could not put her finger to it, so she let it go.

_We are friends,_ decided Chloe, combing her wet heir. _We are friends and he simply likes me. He wants to learn me better and is worried about me because we are friends._

It sounded so nice and safe.

Chloe exited the bathroom and followed soft sounds of piano. Lucifer was sitting behind it and playing with some simple melody, his fingers running on the keys and repeating the same few tacts in different variations. She was moving quietly, but somehow he heard or felt her, stopped playing and looked at her.

His eyes, usually so full of mischief, now expressed unusual concentration – concentration, patience and some unreadable intent. Chloe never saw him so focused before.

She tried to recall, that she is looking at no one else than her partner, no older than thirty-something and with a maturity level of a teenager, but the man in front of her looked different. He looked like someone who saw much more and knew much more than some playboy musician ever could.

_Perhaps it was not about giving up the image. Perhaps it was about giving up the mask_. Chloe suppressed the shiver. She wasn't convinced anymore, that their relations were that safe.

"A drink, Detective?" proposed Lucifer, taking from the piano the glass filled with amber liquid and reaching toward her. "I thought this would be more suitable to the occasion than an apple."

He chuckled and Chloe frowned, not sure what he is referring to. _Ah, yes. The devil – the apple,_ she recalled. _His private joke._

Then she noticed that there was something off in the scene. There was only one glass on the piano as if he wasn't drinking himself, only waiting for her to take it. And she wasn't especially fond of brandy, he knew it but still made the choice for her. The strangest, a bit rude even, was that he didn't stand up and approach her only remained seated behind his piano, with the glass in the outstretched hand.

She frowned slightly and he replied to her with a smirk, not moving from the piano.

"You need to take it yourself. I told you, free will is imperative."

She wasn't sure if it was a private joke anymore. For a moment she felt as if participating in some arranged scene, which meaning was clear to him, but not to her. Still, there was a challenge in his voice and she never backed away from the challenge. The slight sense of danger made it even more exciting.

Looking him in the eye, she neared to the piano and took the glass from his hand. Their fingertips met and this touch burned longer than alcohol flowing down her throat.

Neither of them said anything, but the concentration in his eyes gave place to satisfaction and the tension between slowly subsided.

"A song or two, before we drive you home?" he proposed, with the usual ease in his voice. "Any orders?"

"Your choice," she replied, sinking on the couch with the glass in her hand. She listened to him playing, sipped the remains of her drink and felt so very much on her place.

And then she recalled it, his words from earlier that sounded of: 'Instead of humouring youI decided to humour myself.' Was it really how he saw it? Humouring her? All their partnership, their work, his help and… kindness toward her…Was it only… humouring her? It sounded as of he was doing it just on a whim. Dan said something like this. Was it all a whim, a trick, a lure?..

Chloe closed her eyes and shoved her doubts aside. She didn't want to think about Dan. She wanted to listen to music and enjoy it.

And if for Lucifer it was some kind of a game, at the moment she very much wanted to play with him.

At the moment, she even wouldn't mind losing.


	9. The truth catches up

The sound of the alarm clock ripped Chloe out from the deep, dreamless sleep. For a second she laid still, recalling the last day and planning the morning. Damn, she wanted to sleep more. And her muscles ached. She looked at the clock and gasped at the hour. Luckily, today Trixie was going for a school excursion and Dan wanted to take her to the gathering point. Chloe would only need to make Trixie breakfast and dispatch her with dad, then she would be able to have a moment for herself.

When she returned yesterday, Trixie was already sleeping. Now, Chloe decided to hide as much traces of yesterday's fight as possible. She pulled the dressing gown over pyjama, to cover bruises on her arms and plasters on the chest, and let the hair down over her wounded cheek.

"Time to wake up, Monkey," called Chloe, entering her daughter's room. No response. She chose clothes for her and put it on the bed, kissing her daughter's forehead. "Get up, Trixie," she said and received some incoherent mumbling in reply.

Still swaying on her feet, she went to the kitchen, almost tripping over her bag. Yesterday she was so tired, that after paying the babysitter, she simply left the bag in the middle of the floor. Well, she needed to wake up and concentrate on her morning routine. A coffee for herself. Cocoa for Trixie. Bread into the toaster. The call "Get up, Monkey!", still no response. One gulp of coffee. Well, two or three. Sandwiches to the lunchbox, lunchbox and juice to the backpack. Is it going to rain today? Should she pack her a raincoat? "Trixie, get up!"

A doorbell rang and she let Dan in. For a second Chloe froze, expecting questions concerning yesterday, but Dan only asked with slight irritation: "Is she not ready yet? I am in a hurry too."

"Trixie! Daddy is waiting for you!" called Chloe and finally Trixie, luckily already clothed, came downstairs and grabbed the breakfast.

"You want some coffee?" proposed Chloe, but Dan shook his head. The detective closed her eyes for a moment, feeling that she still didn't fully wake up. She couldn't wait until Dan and Trixie would be out and she would return into the bed, just for ten minutes, no more. And then a hot shower.

"I forgot my lucky hair clip," announced Trixie standing up from the table. Dan huffed impatiently.

"I saw it in the bathroom. Eat, I will bring it," said Chloe, going toward the bathroom. Of course, she tripped over her bag again, this time spilling the coffee from the mug she was keeping – over the floor, the bag and herself. "Shit."

"Ugly word!" called immediately Trixie with a smile.

"Jeez, I will bring it," muttered Dan angrily. "Just gather yourself."

Chloe sighed and reached for a paper towel, wiping the floor and trying to assess the damage to her bag. Heavy morning, if there ever was one. Luckily, Trixie was done with her breakfast.

"Put the shoes, Monkey," she said handing her the backpack. Where was Dan with the hair clip? "And have fun on your trip. Just be careful. And polite," Chloe kissed her daughter, correcting her jumper. A few minutes more, and all this hectic commotion would be over. She would make a new coffee, lay down for a few minutes, take shower and…

She heard Dan footsteps behind her and turn back, freezing when she saw his expression, hurt and anger written all over his features.

"Fuck, Chloe," he said, and his voice trembled. "We didn't even sign the divorce papers yet."

Chloe stood agape, processing his words and trying to make sense of them when Dan in accusing gesture raised to her eyes the piece of the black material. The man's shirt. Right, yesterday she was so tired that she simply took off the shirt Lucifer borrowed her and left it in the bathroom. But…

"It is not like that…" she tried to explain. "It is borrowed…" she hesitated. There was something wet in Dan's eyes and somehow it wrenched her heart. On the other side, she didn't have to explain herself.

"Fuck," repeated Dan, throwing the shirt on the couch.

"Two ugly words, Daddy!" called Trixie, jumping from one foot to another, already behind the house threshold.

Dan brushed past Chloe exiting the house and shut the door behind him.

* * *

 _I should call Dan and explain it,_ thought Chloe, sipping her second coffee. Not that she was obliged to, but she didn't want to see Dan hurt. They were in separation, but for the sake of their past feelings and future care over Trixie – and hopefully also for the sake of their future friendship – she would have told him before starting the new relationship. He shouldn't think that she moved on, just like that, and started to sleep with someone else.

But, to tell the truth, she had moved on.

She trusted another man more than Dan. In a difficult moment, she didn't search for help and support by Dan, only found comfort in the company of another. And she let another stretch the truth for her, keeping secrets from Dan, just because she felt better this way.

Considering all this, the fact that she hadn't slept with Lucifer was meaningless.

 _I should call Dan and confront him,_ Chloe corrected herself gloomily. Oh, the confrontation was inevitable. The detective rubbed her forehead, imagining how her daywork was going to look like. She wasn't sure, whether Dan recognized it was Lucifer's shirt. Probably yes, his clothes were no less distinctive than his car, but even if not, Lucifer was not exactly the muster of discretion. If Dan starts to quarrel with her at the precinct, Lucifer was certainly going to chime in, throw some jokes and make things even worse.

 _That's going to be a hell of a day,_ sighted Chloe.

As if replying to her thoughts, her phone called. Numer was unknown, but in the speaker sounded Lucifer's voice.

"Detective, I hate to interrupt your beauty sleep, but I am in a place where your presence is required. Could you note the address?"

"I wasn't sleeping. I am going to work," sighed Chloe. "What is it?"

A moment of silence in the speaker. "It is work-related," sounded cautious reply. "And urgent."

"Fine," sighed Chloe, noting down the address. At least the confrontation with Dan would be delayed. Who knows, perhaps in a few hours he would cool off a little.

* * *

The navigation led her to some small pub, situated in one of the most dangerous areas of the city. So early in the morning, however, the pub was closed and the streets almost empty. The detective noticed a few clochards, scrambling out of their makeshift beddings, working girls in the smeared makeup retuning home and tired mothers hurrying to work. And in front of the entrance to the pub, standing out of this sad, but familiar landscape like two characters from another fable, were sitting Maze and Lucifer.

"Hi. What happened?" asked Chloe, trying to ignore the fact that she didn't even manage to properly comb her hair and Maze was wearing a red leather corset.

"There is a situation inside," Lucifer enigmatically pointed at the pub. He raised a cigarette and inhaled a cloud of smoke, the ring of his finger glittering during the movement. "How are you feeling, Detective?"

"Fine," Chloe nodded with a slight smile, acknowledging his concern and headed for the entrance to the pub. "I guess that the door is open?"

"Yes. However, Detective," Lucifer stopped her before she managed to cross the threshold, "do you by any chance belong to these people who have problems with looking at the blood? Because there is quite a lot of it inside." He reached for his pocket flask and offered it to her. "You may need it, before entering."

"Lucifer, it is 9 am," Chloe shook her head refusing and entered the pub. Lucifer and Maze followed her. "Do not smoke at the crime scene," Chloe managed to say automatically before the voice died in her throat.

To say that there was blood in this place would be an understatement of the decade. The pub looked as if the grenade burst out in the room full of people. There was blood over the floor and the walls, and the ceiling. Over the tables and overturned chairs. At first, Chloe saw nothing but dark pools of blood covering all the surfaces, its sharp smell deposited metallic taste on her tongue. Only after a few seconds did she notice, that there were also… remains. Remains scattered over the whole place in very small… pieces. A palm on the seat. A leg under the window. A… something on the counter.

The detective felt the wave of nausea and, not tearing the eyes from the scene, reached the hand toward Lucifer. When he pushed his flask into it, she took a big gulp and then another one. She coughed at the sharp taste, but it helped.

"I missed that smell," sighed Maze. She stretched herself, closing her eyes with obvious delight and inhaled deeply.

"You could have told earlier," muttered ironically Lucifer. "We would have bought you the slaughterhouse."

"Do they have human blood there?" Maze's eyes flashed with real interest and Lucifer snorted with laughter.

The detective looked at them, blinking. _She is joking and he is amused,_ she realized and the wave of nausea returned. How could someone remain so oblivious facing such morbid scene? What were they?

Some of her feelings must have shown on her face, because Lucifer, seeing her expression, exclaimed: "Oh, come on, Detective! These were bad people!"

"What?... How do you know?" Chloe demanded hoarsely. At the last question, fear grasped at her throat. What happened here - bloodletting of the gangs? Mob revenge? Why exactly have they been here, Lucifer and Maze? Did something from their shady past finally transpire, like the detective always feared – and transpired in such a spectacular manner? Did they want to help her to… clean it? She wouldn't do it, even for Lucifer. Besides, to… clean this place she would need no less than a bomb exploding inside. Or flame thrower.

A flame thrower would be actually easier to get.

"These were the murderers of Jeremy Mitchell," explained Lucifer with undisturbed ease.

"How do you know?" repeated Chloe, losing her breath. _Oh, please. How, just how, can he know…_

"The crime tool," Lucifer pointed at the object she didn't notice earlier – a bloodied herbal knife laying under the table. "Quite an unusual instrument to make a massacre, don't you think? I guess electric saw would be easier to get and less tiring to use," he chuckled. "It screams: revenge!"

Chloe exhaled the shaky breath, almost fainting with relief. She looked at the distinctive knife with two handles and nodded. Of course. Lucifer simply made the wide stretched, but rather believable assumption.

"I need to get out of here," she admitted, ignoring Maze's scornful snort. Once outside, she inhaled fresh air for a few moments, slowly regaining clarity of thoughts. Of course, now she should notify the station, immediately. Yet, the moment of relief she felt at learning that Lucifer and Maze didn't just witness some gruesome mob score settings, was short-lived. The question of how they learnt about it still remained unanswered. It was not a kind of situation that the civil consultant could be informed prior to the police about.

"Why are you here? How did you know?..."

"We got the text," explained Lucifer and waved for Maze. The barmaid wordlessly retrieved her phone and showed it to the detective. It was only the address, without any other information.

Chloe took it and reached for her own phone, to copy the text and the number. Damn, the situation has just gotten worse. Maze wasn't even a civil consultant. In the eyes of the police, she would be a stranger. A stranger who receives the text pointing at such gore is very close to the suspect. Even if there were the murderers of Jeremy Mitchell, why would someone let Maze know about their massacre?…

'You may also contact Mazikeen', a piece of overheard conversation with Margot Jensen sounded in her head. No. That was absurd.

"Any idea who sent it?" she asked, trying to sound matter-of-fact.

"Of course!" called Lucifer, looking at her almost with irritation. "And do not play dumb, Detective, you know it too!"

Chloe blinked again and shook her head. "No," she said decisively. "No, no. Just… do not try to tell me that… this… slaughter was done… by her. No. That's not possible," she made a step back, trying to concentrate. "Even if… even if she hired someone…"

"Hire? Of course not," chimed in Maze. "It was personal."

"That's not possible," repeated Chloe. "It wasn't her. Besides…" she hesitated and something in her snapped, "For Heaven's Sake, you called her!" she cried, losing the rest of her self-control. "You called her, you called her from the police station, where all calls are registered and you sent her after these men, and do you know how does it all now look for you?..."

Lucifer crooked his head, the sign that something intrigued him. For a moment Chloe hoped that he understood and they would start a reasonable conversation now, but he only grinned cheerfully: "Why, it looks like you are worried about me, Detective! I would never guess!..."

Chloe opened her mouth to yell at him, but she was interrupted by the sound of the police siren. Fuck. She didn't call the station yet. The words died on her mouth and, full of anxiety, she looked and the blue and red lights nearing to them.

Just since when was she getting anxious at the view of the police lights?

For a moment she relaxed, seeing Dan among other officers leaving the car. Certainly, it would be easier to explain things to Dan?

Her hopes soon faded. At their view, Dan's expression twisted with anger. More precisely, at Lucifer's view. Any doubts whether he identified the owner of the shirt he found in her bathroom this morning were dispersed. Seeing Lucifer, Dan literally flinched and made a beeline toward the consultant, only to stop in front of him, each nerve and muscle in his body tensed in frustration.

Lucifer, slightly surprised, didn't move only look down at Dan, with this special sight of him, as if he just got amused by something very small under his feet. Maze, however, found it necessary to make a small step in their direction and meaningly cleared her throat. For a moment, Chloe felt very bad for Dan, knowing how angry and frustrated he must have been. Somehow, she felt guilty, knowing that she is in the middle of all this and that she could have managed the situation better.

"Dan, hi again," she said quickly before the silent confrontation escalated into something loud and unpleasant. "What are you doing here? I didn't manage to call the station yet."

Her ex-husband looked at her with distraction, as if he wasn't sure, what she was talking about. Then his professionalism won and he stepped back from Lucifer, turning to her:

"I got a leak from Benitez. He let me know that some members of his gang were killed here. It is true?"

"Benitez? They were from his gang?" Chloe frowned. "Well, yes, the bodies are in the pub. But Dan, take it easy! It is not a nice view."

Dan eyed her cautiously and together with other policemen headed for the pub. Chloe swirled anxiously. She knew, that Dan was thorough. He wasn't going to forget to ask, what she was doing here. Once the first shock after seeing the crime scene passes, he would demand an explanation for their presence. Lucifer, of course, would tell him, with the same ease he just told her. And he would, of course, share his absurd hypothesis – absurd, of course – about Margot Jensen. The hypothesis that should be ignored, but Dan was not going to make anything easy now, not for Lucifer. On the contrary – if there were a way to escalate the situation, Dan would use it. Out of personal grudge, but still…

 _Oh, no, why does it all have to crush together?_ thought desperately Chloe, watching how the first policeman ran out of the pub and started to vomit violently under the wall.

"Humans," muttered Maze. "Endurance of eggshells."

Chloe ignored her, concentrating on the catastrophe that was bound to come in a moment.

"I told Margot only to locate these men, if that worries you, Detective," replied Lucifer. He looked at her cautiously but seemed to be concerned only about her distress, apparently not able to see all the potential consequences she was aware of. "This was her own initiative."

"She disobeyed you," prompted Maze suggestively. "Let me find her."

"More like… misstepped. And I am not angry," Lucifer carelessly wavered his hand. "On the contrary, I find her behaviour… her motivations… the most intriguing. She was even ready to risk my wrath. How do you think, Mazikeen, does it mean that she was, indeed, in love?..."

"It means no one cares for your anger anymore," hissed Maze.

Chloe for a second wanted to slap them both to shake some reason into them. If it was Margot Jensen – and though Chloe refused to believe it, some part of her knew it to be true – the facts were that Lucifer called her a few days before, sent after Mitchell's killers, asked to contact Maze after finding them - and then Maze received the text leading to… this. Shit, why could neither he nor this barmaid ninja, think lucidly? A bodyguard she was!... 'Not angry'? And what did it matter? Did he at least have a lawyer? _Now that would be a funny question, to ask a devil whether he had a lawyer, wasn't that… proverbial?_ Chloe chuckled hysterically, drawing the attention of both Lucifer and Maze. They stopped quarrelling – something about getting soft and returning to the right place before it would be too late – and looked at her.

"Are you all right, Detective?" Lucifer asked kindly. "There is nothing to be distressed about. I didn't expect either that something like this would happen," he pointed toward the pub with an elegant gesture, the ring glittering again. "However, I am utterly satisfied with the outcome. The guilty were punished, the justice was served."

"And it was a painful justice," added Maze, licking her lips.

"Oh, shut up," cut him off Chloe, seeing that Dan and the other policemen were leaving the bar. "Just shut up or playing the devil won't help you."

"But, Detective!..."

Chloe quickly made a few steps toward Dan, to prevent him from getting too near to Lucifer, in case her partner would like to express his satisfaction at the gore in the bar once again. Behind her, Lucifer and Maze started to quarrel again. This time it was something about respect and letting the mortals push him around. No matter.

Both Dan and the other man were pale as sheets.

"What the hell is it, Chloe?" asked Dan, shaking. He sounded aggressive, but she knew it was because of the shock.

"I don't know, Dan," the detective shook her head. "I only had a peek at the scene. I needed some fresh air."

"Yeah, me too," sighed Dan. He slowly calmed down and, of course, started to think logically. "What are you doing here? Did you get some notice, or what?"

That was the moment.

For a second, Chloe had a feeling as if the world froze.

Behind her, Lucifer and Maze were still arguing, both immersed in their game, exchanging heated remarks about gates of hell, eternal oaths and mortality. They were so much in their roles, that in other circumstances Chloe could even found it cool.

However, at the moment she was under her private gate of hell, facing Dan, who waited for answers.

Ans she didn't have much time to decide.

"Yes. We got the text," she replied, not recognizing her own voice. Slowly, she showed him Maze's phone, that she still kept in her hand. "I didn't check the number yet, but I will do it."

It wasn't a lie. At yet it was.

"I see," Dan nodded, reading the text. "Any idea why someone sent you this?"

He could have asked her to be more precise. He could have asked, who exactly got the text. Yes, Chloe's official number was at the precinct webpage, but he didn't have to assume that she was the one who got the message.

He could have noticed that Lucifer had no mobile phone. He could have remembered, how her cell looked like. He could have recognized, that it was not the one.

It was Dan's mistake.

And yet, it was her lie.

"Do you remember my case? The murder of Jeremy Mitchell?" said slowly Chloe. "He was killed by the herbal knife and I saw similar at the pub. I think there might be a connection. Perhaps someone… involved knew we are working on the case and might have sent this message."

All truth. And still, a lie.

For a short second, she wondered, whether this was what Lucifer was doing with them all the time, letting them play the blind man's buff and stumble over their own assumptions - watching them from aside. Did he found it funny?

But this time it was she who did it. She misled her ex-husband, worse – her fellow oficer - deliberately hiding from him the trail.

She felt awful.

"Perhaps. I will try to check it," Dan nodded shortly. In the meantime, he gathered himself. Emotions after seeing the morbid scene fallen down, now he sent her reluctant glance. "But officially it is my case. You may leave, I will let you know if I find something of importance connected with your investigation. So, now just take you loverboy out of here, because I cannot look at him."

"Do not be an asshole," Chloe said only. "it is not like you think." No, it wasn't. In fact, it was worse. Just having sex with Lucifer would be much less… bonding than what was between them now.

Dan snorted and quite ostensively turned back to make phone calls, demanding backup and forensics. Chloe took it as a clue to leave. Behind her, Lucifer's and Maze's heated argument was developing, so she swiftly stepped in between them, before the exchange of arguments turned into something more physical. She already knew that they had the non-standard understanding of personal immunity, but she preferred not to give Dan pretexts to intervene.

"There is nothing for us here. Let's go. I will take you to the precinct," she said to Lucifer, seeing that they arrived with Maze's car. Only when they put some distance from Dan, she returned the phone to Maze.

"Nicely done, Decker," commented Maze, taking her phone. So, she did pay attention to what was happening around her, even in the middle of the quarrel. Perhaps she wasn't such a bad bodyguard after all.

Lucifer, of course, didn't concern himself with any of this. Chloe shook her head, seeing him taking place in her car. She knew she locked it. And, of course, he couldn't have waited a few seconds until she opened it. He just had to show off.

"You are not that bad, Decker, even if you... stink with grace," the barmaid grimaced, wrinkling her nose. "I hate to see him changing because of you. But you are strong, I admit. I showed you the Hell and you didn't run away."

"Do you ever stop playing at this?" asked wearily the detective. "I mean, do you ever put on normal clothes and start talking like normal people?"

Maze snorted.

"Open your eyes, Decker. We are not people. And my normal clothes are armour," she concluded, getting into her car and slamming the door.

* * *

The detective drove to the precinct in silence, pretending to be concentrated on the road, to avoid conversation. Lucifer, on his side, was also lost in thoughts, so the detective could have pondered undisturbed.

How did it come to this? Yesterday, she simply took an easy way, an innocent, comfortable shortcut. And after not much more than twelve hours, she was lying to her ex-husband, worse – to her fellow officer.

She felt so… good last night. Sitting in Lucifer's flat, under the dim light of this beautiful tree-like chandelier, listening to him playing… resting after the violent fight and narrow escape…she felt so much in place. She felt intrigued and excited. And adored.

Today she felt overwhelmed.

Something was… not right. Lucifer, Maze, this gruesome scene, their cruel jokes and incomprehensible remarks, all their game and metaphors… suddenly it all weighed on her heavily, like a burden.

 _These are the consequences_ , she thought. _There are consequences to everything we do, good choices are rewarded and bad choices are punished and usually, you do not get to know which are which until it is too late and all you can to it to accept consequences, and saying 'I am sorry I didn't know' will not help._

This joke about the eggs. 'I need the eggs', it said and she found it so wise and funny. What was not in the joke, were consequences. It is not that someone does not let you die taking the bullets destined for you, coaxes your superiors to your favour, reads the people's minds and forces the suspects to confess in sobs and even opens the locks for you – and all this wouldn't have consequences.

The question is, what these consequences would look like.

So far, a few people finished in the asylum, _but these were bad people,_ she defended quickly. And after the one small phone call, a certain pub ran with blood. Hopefully, it was the blood of bad people as well.

And she distanced herself from Dan, this time beyond repair.

But they also shattered the drug gang, saving a few kids from a new kind of brain-damaging shit. Did it mean, that the consequences were balanced?

Where there any other consequences she didn't know about?

She risked a quick glance at her partner, for a small second losing the trail of her thoughts to admire, how beautiful he looked like, sitting so peacefully by her side, long eyelashes casting a shadow on his cheeks. Why exactly did he choose to pose as the devil? With such beauty as his, he could easily claim to be an angel.

 _Ah, but angel image wouldn't fit his temper tantrums,_ thought Chloe with a smile. _And even less his lifestyle._ Her partner was a man of devilish passions, fondness for sinful pleasures, angelic beauty and love to music. Not forgetting the temper of five-year-old and conviction that the world always revolves around him.

Did everything, that was happening, had consequences for Lucifer too? He always seemed so much… above everything. So careless and uncaring. Oh, yes, most of this commotion he made around himself was to hide his true self from everyone, himself including, she realized that. But still, she had no idea how the real Lucifer looked like.

Once again she recalled the Great Dane of her neighbours, now shaking her head almost with shame. How could she have compared Lucifer such reliable, homely animal? No, he would rather be something far more sophisticated and fickle. Like a…

Like a dragon.

Chloe had no idea why such comparison suddenly came to her mind. However, once she thought about it, she felt terribly uncomfortable with this idea, with the picture of being followed by a dragon, a powerful, sentient and wise but inhuman…

"Detective? What is it?" she heard a familiar voice and she saw him watching her with concern.

As for someone so self-centred, Lucifer became recently very sensitive to her moods.

"Nothing. It has just been… a difficult morning," Chloe smiled evasively and added, to change the subject: "You are unusually silent. What are you thinking about?"

"Feelings. How surprising consequences they might have," came the immediate answer.

"Feelings?" Chloe echoed, clearing her throat. "You are speaking about Margot Jensen?"

"Yes," he replied after a long moment of silence and with hesitation. "Yes, about her. I hope so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers, with this chapter I am done with publishing the story that has already appeared on fanfiction.net. The next chapters are in progress and would appear soon, but not as quickly as until now.   
> I hope you enjoy my story. I just wanted to let you know - or maybe warn you - that it not a love story, even if it is perhaps the story about love. I am still not sure how I would end it, but there won't be any romantic scenes or love confessions. And definitely, it is not going to end with the redemption-through-love conclusion. If anything, it is going to be otherwise.  
> So, I just wanted to spare you the disappointment. I am romantic myself and I love big love stories and happy endings and I know how much does it hurt, when the story does not have the end I hoped for.   
> Having said this, I want also to thank anyone, who is reading my story. Cheers!


	10. The Death’s Door reopens

_The detective cautiously sneaked through the empty, dark warehouse, trying to remain in the shadows and avoid the dim lights of fluorescent lamps. Flattening herself to the wall, she corrected the grasp on her gun and risked leaning out of the corner. There was nothing but long, empty passages of semi-darkness. The shelves and crates around her were ordered in strangely unsettling rhythm, the rectangular shapes bringing some unpleasant, but imperceptible associations. Very slowly, she made moved forward and, surprised that her step didn't cause any sound, looked down._

_There was no concrete under her feet, only the ground covered with a soft layer of ash._

_"Lucifer!" she called, forgetting that she was meant to be cautious. "Lucifer!"_

_"Chloe," he acknowledged, emerging from one of the passages and the detective took it as the first hint that something was not right here because he never used to address her by her name._

_She looked around, feeling her panic rising. The shelves around her transformed into blurry shapes of the rocky, grey countryside, the paths of the labyrinth stretching to the horizon, the dark clouds taking place of the industrial ceiling of the warehouse…_

_"I don't know where we are," she said to her partner. "I don't know what are we doing here." Now she understood it must have been a dream. In the real life, she never felt so helpless._

_Lucifer looked around and slowly the space around them became brighter, this time lit with a friendly, white light, not with the weak flicker of the warehouse lamps. "Better now?"_

_"Yes," sighed Chloe with relief. She saw again the metal frames and wooden shelves, filled with boxes, and there was a concrete floor under their feet. As far as the white light reached, there was a familiar warehouse. Behind that, in the semidarkness and shadows, she saw the contours of the labyrinth and dark clouds over the horizon. However, accepting that she was dreaming, she didn't question anything, just revelled in the light and in his company._

_"What are we doing here?" she repeated the question._

_"That depends on you," replied Lucifer, relaxed and uncaring, as usual. "We can leave if you want. Do you want to leave?"_

_"I do not know what I want," said Chloe, the sentence she would never she would while awake. "You tell me." She rested her hands on Lucifer's arms and looked him in the eye, waiting for him to read her soul._

_"That would be too simple," he smiled shaking his head, but still eagerly pulled her closer._

_Their eyes met. No inexplicable need to confess her desired appeared in her mind, but still, she was getting lost in his sight. He had beautiful eyes, so warm and expressive, brown with golden flecks, like coffee with honey… She felt the touch of his fingers embracing her arms, so gently it felt like some special caress and the friendly, white light around them was like a shelter holding them safe._

_And then, with no explanation, the wave of incomprehensible fear washed over her, grasping at her throat, clenching her chest. She knew she must break the eye contact, otherwise, something terrible would happen, but so very much like in a dream, she couldn't move._

_'I want to leave,' she thought desperately, but now she couldn't make a sound._

_He was as beautiful as before and the white light around them didn't waver, but the dream had a logic of its own. Her panic grew and all she wanted was to run away._

_And yet, she couldn't even blink._

_She could only stay, transfixed and terrified._

Just a second before the unnamed terror stroke, she woke up.

* * *

 _How such a nice dream can turn into a nightmare?_ she complained to herself, much later, already in the precinct, when she was trying to concentrate on her work. That was a much different dream then the series of nightmares involving Maze she had some time earlier. This one was actually even nice, till this very last part, that filled her with fear.

Evidently, her subconsciousness was letting her know, that there was too much of Mr Morningstar around her. He was, after all, intense. _Good, that he is staying away in the last days,_ thought Chloe and in the same moment her phone. _But, of course, he is not letting himself to be forgotten,_ she sighed, recognizing the LUX number.

"Hello, Detective," a familiar voice greeted her in the speaker. Chloe almost sighed with relief, hearing him use her rank, as usual, instead of the unsettling 'Chloe' from her dream. "Do we have a new case today?"

"No, actually I am still dealing with the workload of the old one. But there is nothing you would help me with."

It was true. The detective had a doubled workload from her case, that, indeed, concerned mostly paperwork. There were dozens of reports to be written. Though the murder of Jeremy Mitchell remained officially unexplained – the herbal knife on the scene was considered too feeble proof of potential connection – the other threads of her investigation were concluded with a big success. The dealers' gang, with the whole laboratory, was crushed. About a dozen men were indicted and awaited now in the arrest for the process. Ben Mitchell was bailed, but he was going to face charges as well.

"I can always come and cheer you up."

"No," replied Chloe a bit too quickly. "There are some things I need to do alone." Of course, only after hearing his chuckle she realized that her words might have sounded ambiguous. Damn, this man could have made an innuendo of the most innocent sentence.

"Detective, I assure you, that whatever you have in mind I can…"

"Whatever you have in mind I do not want to know it." Chloe reddened with irritation and explained stiffly: "I am searching for Margot Jensen and I do not want you here, because you are in an obvious conflict of interest."

Torn between a sense of guilt, duty and reason, but also slightly fearing possible consequences, Chloe spent the last days doing all in her powers to locate this woman. Of course, there was no tiniest proof indicating that Margot had something to do with the massacre in the pub. Nothing, except this text and Lucifer's crazy explanations. The text was explicable and the rest not worth bothering.

However, there was also the expression in Margot's eyes when she said 'I need to find them'.

Besides, Chloe for the first time hid something work-related from Dan and therefore felt obliged to do some investigation herself. She did all she could do alone, without alarming Monroe. She checked Margot's house – empty – she asked her neighbours and trade contracts. She used the help of her friends in South America and tried to check the passengers' lists on the airport. She even set a date with a guy from FBI who made sweet eyes to her from a long time and in exchange asked him to make a discreet search in their database.

Everything in vain. It was as the woman simply vanished from the earth.

She wasn't going to officially involve other officers, but she also wanted Lucifer to stay out of this. Perhaps, on some level, she was also angry at him for putting her in the situation where she was forced to ambiguous behaviour… though she couldn't deny that everything that happened was her decision and her only.

"As long as I am working on it, I prefer you to stay out of the investigation," the detective added quite formally.

"Detective, if that's the condition of your permit for my return, it seems that you have banished me into the ethernal exile. You won't find her," stated serenely Lucifer. "Perhaps I should discuss it with Lieutenant Monroe? You know, to clean myself from all suspicions?..." he literally purred the last sentence.

Great, so he did not only show no remorse for the situation, he was also going to use her quandaries against her. _Bastard_ , thought Chloe, shaking her head

"Don't you dare," she hissed. "Are you trying to blackmail me?"

"Merely bargaining," replied Lucifer in a sing-song voice and complained: "Detective, I feel lonely, abandoned and in need of entertainment."

"Don't you have a night club?"

"Boring. I may find myself some fun, but you may not like my choice, Detective."

Somehow, Chloe knew that 'the fun' would not take place in the LUX, but at the precinct or, perhaps in her house. As for the rest, her imagination failed her, but Lucifer was certainly able of anything.

"Fine. Come tomorrow," she relented. "I need one more day to wrap up everything."

"Lovely. Do I also get to blackmail you to a drink tonight?" tried Lucifer, but the detective quickly disconnected the conversation.

She exhaled slowly, very unsatisfied with the blush that appeared on her cheeks during this conversation and tried to calm herself.

"I don't want this man around my daughter."

 _Now, that again. Great._ Chloe wearily raised her eyes, to see her estranged husband leaning over her with an angry expression.

Dan was recently getting unbearable. Mostly, because of work. His Benitez case was in surprising standstill and the investigation concerning the massacre in the pub brought no answers and no suspects. Monroe was expressing her discontent and impatience more and more expressively.

Unfortunately, Chloe was receiving the bad end of Dan's frustration. How surprising, when she was alone against almost all of her colleagues, her ex-husband was the only one why stood up for her from time to time. When her situation got a bit better, he suddenly started to be moody, sulking and even offensive.

"Dan, just be a big boy enough to admit, that you are simply angry because Monroe is pressing you," sighed Chloe.

Dan bridled, but after a second it looked as if the air escaped him. He sat on the chair by Chloe's desk and rubbed his forehead.

"Righ. I am sorry. It is just that…" he shook his head, helplessly. "No progress, anywhere."

Chloe's anger subsided. She looked at her ex with sympathy. "What about the crime scene?"

"Nothing. Forensics found no traces of DNA or fingerprints," replied Dan, looking very tired. "The only specific establishment is that it was done by someone with unusual strength," he shrugged his shoulders as if to underline that such conclusion wasn't very helpful.

"So rather a man than a woman?" asked Chloe, trying to sound oblivious.

"Definitely. Only someone very strong can cut the bones with the herbal knife. A man. Or, you know, a female athlete," Dan chuckled mirthlessly.

The detective struggled to hide her relief. Margot Jensen was a tiny, delicate woman. Definitely not an athlete. A lady like her wouldn't dispose of the strength necessary to commit such deed. It meant, that the detective could end her desperate search.

"I am sorry, Dan," she said earnestly. "I am sure it will get better."

How was it, that she and Dan could get along only when one of them was in trouble? Perhaps they were simply too strong-headed for each other.

Perhaps that was why she liked to work with Lucifer. Apart from his occasional whims and tantrums, he was mostly so compliant. And he never competed with her. Never tried to prove himself better, stronger or wiser.

"Listen, Chloe, I do not mind you meeting other men," stated Dan, his eyes proving his words false. "I just mind you meeting him. He is… not the right person for you."

"You do not get to decide it," retorted Chloe. "Besides, I am not meeting him. There is nothing between us, except for work."

Dan snorted. "You should have seen you face while you were talking with him. Listen, Chloe," he said, changing the subject, "I know it is not my day, but can I'd like to take Trixie from school today. The weather is great, I thought about going with her to the beach."

"Sure, but…" Chloe hesitated, "Dan, don't you think you are overdoing it? You are spending with her more afternoons than I now."

Dan immediately ruffled. "I didn't know that we are competing. And that you are counting."

"We are not," Chloe shook her head. "It's just… are you sure, that you are not taking to much on you? You… you do not have to prove anything, you know?"

Looking at Dan, she understood, that her words were misunderstood. Apparently, Dan took it as a point of honour to show that he was a perfect father.

Or, perhaps, he really didn't like Lucifer's potential influence at Trixie, which was absurd. Lucifer barely ever met her, and on such rare occasion tried only to waved her away, like a mosquito.

"No one would ever take your place in her life," Chloe started very softly but got interrupted by the very angry Lieutenant Monroe, storming into her room.

"Are you done talking? What about getting to work? Because people are dying while you are chirping," the lieutenant almost yelled, crashing the folder with files at Chloe's desk.

The detective reached for it, confused. Olivia was usually a bitch, but not to such an extent. What exactly happened? The next words of her boss brought the explanation.

"Three kids were found, unconscious, drugged. They are in hospital but in a coma. Probably it was something similar to the Death's Door. You missed something during the investigation," Monroe stressed looking at Chloe with reproach. "Go and find who is selling this shit again."

* * *

"I hope you won't call this an entertainment," the detective said to her partner when they were entering the hospital. She called him immediately after Monroe passed her the information about the reappearance of the drug. To her relief, he didn't banter or made her excuses, only came immediately and they decided to start with the hospital, where the young victims were treated.

"Haven't you ever play at the nurse?" quipped Lucifer, but half-heartedly and his smirk quickly faded, when they were walking through the hospital corridors. "What happened with these first two kids that fell into the coma because of this drug?"

"One is dead, one still unconscious. Permanent brain damage," said quietly Chloe. They reached the ward where the new drug victims were treated. For a moment, she took in the view of the waiting room, where the few family members were sitting, numb with worry and fatigue.

"And these new ones were even younger. Just teens, returning from school. Met the dealer, bought the stuff," the detective rubbed her forehead. These were kids. Just a few years older than Trixie. It could almost be Trixie. And it was not their fault, they were simply careless. Neither it was their parents' fault. It was her fault because she was the one who should keep the city safe from such wretched human rats like the one who offered them this shit. "Oh, what did I miss?"

Lucifer eyed her carefully. "Guilt is unproductive, Detective. And dangerous. It may leady you astray."

"Right," Chloe shook her head, trying to concentrate. They need to find some trail and catch the dealer. "I will speak to the doctor. You may try the luck with the families, in the meantime. Just be gentle."

In the consulting room, she waited for a while for the results of the test. "It is almost certain, that they were poisoned by the same substance what the previous ones," said the doctor.

"The same new drug? The one called the Death's Door?"

"The drug? I would rather say it is a very toxic chemical substance," said the doctor shaking his head. "Hopefully, thanks to the previous research this time we were able to react quicker. Perhaps this time we would manage to save them. But it will take weeks of treatment."

Chloe nodded with a brief smile. It was good that there was hope for the victims, but she didn't have weeks. If she didn't want the new patients at the ward and new mourning families in the waiting room, she had to act more quickly.

The detective exited the room and looked around in search for Lucifer. In the same moment a bit nervous nurse touched her arm.

"Excuse me, Detective, but what your partner is doing? Is he a doctor?..."

Following the nurse, Chloe peeked into one of the victim's room. Lucifer was kneeling by the bed, leaned over the unconscious boy, so low, that their foreheads were barely touching.

"No," replied slowly Chloe, stopping the nurse from intervening, "but give him a moment."

For a small second she hoped… for what exactly? That her partner would manage to learn something from the unconscious boy?... Absurd. And yet she waited patiently until he stood up.

"It is useless. His soul is silent," he stated angrily, brushing past her and the nurse. Not caring to explain himself, headed toward the exit. Only when they left the ward, he turned to her. "The families know nothing. What is your plan now, Detective?"

Chloe for a moment considered his expression. He was very angry. And he wanted her to do something. For a moment, she felt proud that he was relying on her guidance and satisfied, that he shared her determination to find the culprit.

However, she also needed to remember, that angry Lucifer wouldn't be easy to handle.

"Well, we would go and question each of the LAPD informers in the city who has anything to do with the drugs," said slowly Chloe. "Hopefully, we catch a trail. This may take a whole night and I would appreciate your company," she stated a bit officially, but she felt rather awkward, asking him to prowl around the worst parts of the city, just after she kept him "in exile" as he called it, for a few days.

Lucifer only nodded. "Very well."

However, he didn't move and Chloe felt there was something more he wanted to add. For a moment they just stood at the corridor.

"Do not misunderstand me, Detective," Lucifer said finally. "I like drugs. I like the fun and how they twist the reality and above all this precious oblivion they bring. But these – these were not drugs," he said quietly and she noticed, that his eyes were very, very black at this moment. "This was pure poison and whoever sold it, is a murderer."

 _And he should be punished,_ finished Chloe silently.

"And we need to find him," she concluded aloud.

* * *

"I always wondered how the tour of nightlife in your company would look like, Detective. Now that comes as a surprise," stated Lucifer eyeing the club in front of which Chloe parked the car.

It was a very lousy club.

Nothing like the high-end LUX, this place reminded rather of a cheap disco. The outside walls covered with graffiti, the dirty pavement in front of it and big dingy metal doors were completed by the flickering neon "Roxy" and two unpleasantly looking bouncers guarding the entrance.

"We are not here for the nightlife, Lucifer. We are working," replied the detective, unabashed. She decided to start searching for clues from "Roxy", because they had a reliable informer here, a barman, who used to be involved in dealing himself and therefore might have had leads about the new drug appearing in the city.

At the moment she barely listened to her partner, more concerned about his appearance. In his designer suit, he would stand out like the proverbial sore thumb. And, most probably, he would cause the brawl as soon as he opens his mouths and starts to insult the patrons with his British superiority. However, the detective was very goal-oriented tonight and determined to be optimistic.

"Stay close to me, watch your pockets and do not talk too much," she advised, heading for the entrance and reached for her badge to show it to the brawlers. Yet, before she even managed to retrieve it, they stepped back and one of them opened the door, his gloomy face cracking into something that could probably be considered as a smile.

Confused by the unexpectedly friendly welcome, the detective furrowed her eyebrows and slowly turned back to look at her partner.

"I told you that I am surprised by your choice, not that I haven't been here before," Lucifer shrugged his shoulders with an innocent expression. "Now, who are we looking for?"

"Robert Stenson, the barman," replied shortly Chloe, heading for the bar.

The club was already crowded, the music loud and the air stiffy with the stench of bodies and alcohol. There were no strippers, but a few working girls were circling around the room, searching for clients. Most of the guests looked as if they have already served the sentence at least once – or were in the right direction to do it in the nearest future. The detective for a moment wondered, what Lucifer could have done in a place like this.

Somewhere here halfway to the bar Lucifer overtook her and when she joined him, was already greeting the barman.

"Hello, Bobby."

"Good evening, Mr Morninstar. Nice to see you again," greeted him Bobby, or rather Robert Stenson according to the LAPD files. "What can I get you and your charming companion tonight?"

The man bowed slightly in her direction with a smile, that didn't fully mask certain surprise in his face. Apparently, she didn't fulfil the standards of Lucifer's usual 'charming companions'.

"Information," the detective said sharply, slamming her badge a bit too abruptly at the counter.

Bobby moved his eyes to Lucifer, who sighed and shook his head.

"She is no fun," he complained, leaning himself over the bar.

"No, definitely no fun. Have you heard about the drug… the substance named the Death's Door?" asked the detective, sending Bobby her most 'police' glance.

"Just enough to keep away from it," the barman shrugged his shoulders

"I need to find the dealer who is selling this."

"But you got them," Bobby shrugged his shoulders. "SWAT raided the whole lab."

"Someone is selling it again," the detective narrowed her eyes, measuring the man with a scrutinizing glance. Bobby was indeed well-informed. He must have heard something.

"Not here. Not in the clubs."

"Bobby, my friend, things shouldn't be half-done," observed casually Lucifer. "Since you already are the snitch, then snitch."

The detective for a moment wondered, how comfortably her partner looked in such a sordid place. Graceful as usual, he leant over the counter, carefully avoiding the remains of the spilt beer and looked around, examining the space around him with his dark eyes. There was no shadow of superiority in his expression. On the contrary, he appeared content and satisfied.

 _The devil in the den od inequity,_ thought the detective with a certain amusement. Well, she had to admit, that Lucifer didn't stand out. On the contrary, he looked very much in place.

 _He always looks in place,_ she realized with certain surprise.

"Mr Stenson, if you heard something, you better share it now," she said, returning her attention to the barman.

Bobby sighed and looked around with discomfort.

"There was a guy, trying to sell… something. But there was a rumour, that it was… unchecked. You know, we are kind of old school here, we do not experiment," he pointed at his clients. Chloe raised her eyebrows. The old school looked more like the band of thugs freshly released from prison. "And it is not that anyone can sell anything just like that," finished Bobby lamely, but the detective understood.

"So, you mean that the local dealer chased away the guy who tried to sell the substance we are searching for," she specified. "Where did he go?"

"I have no idea," replied Bobby, but then shook his head again and added, biting his lips: "Perhaps you should ask in some places where kids are coming. Like with the slot machines, you know."

"Yes, I do. I do know," the detective nodded. "Thank you, Bobby." Now, that was a point to start, probably a relevant one. If the unknown dealer could not make a profit here, he wouldn't certainly do it, not search for buyers among the underages.

As soon as the conversation was finished, Bobby stepped aside, eager to distance himself from her and her badge. However, he didn't leave, only leant toward her partner. "Mr Morningstar, can I speak with you for a minute?"

"Hm?... Just do not try to sell me anything. What you provided the last time was more apt to baking cookies, with all that soda," observed Lucifer. "Unless it is about something else?..." his black eyes flashed with interest and he turned toward Bobby, focusing his attention on the barman.

"Yes, it is… I mean, it is not about selling," stuttered the man, sending anxious glance at Chloe's direction. "I just… need a favour."

Chloe felt a bit awkward. She had enough on her head right now, she didn't need to learn that – despite what stood in his files - Stenson was not still dealing. And she preferred not to hear the details of this… favour. On the other hand, there was no reason why she would not let Lucifer talk with this man. That was not illegal. She shrugged her shoulders and - just in case - stepped away from the counter, in order not to hear the conversation.

She found herself in the middle of the room. This time she felt a few hostile glances of the patrons. They must have seen her badge. She stood more confidently, pushing the tail of her jacket aside, so that her badge and gun were better visible, and looked around, making sure to meet the sight of the men staring at her.

Most of them lowered their eyes, but some didn't.

The conversations were getting quieter and the air somehow thicker.

Well, the detective didn't mind some staring contest. And if anyone tried anything, she could wipe the floor with him, why not. She raised her chin trying to make the best of her not that impressive hight and hooked her fingers over her belt, trying to spot among the crowd the most probable troublemakers and intimidate them with a scolding glance.

"I have finished," said Lucifer, nearing to her. He stopped, looked around, taking in the hostile mood in the room and… embraced her shoulders, heading toward the door. "Let's go."

For a second, Chloe froze, startled by the crossing of her personal limits. He never did that before. He used to touch her elbow, or her arm, to draw her attention, or lead her, by putting the hand on the small of her back, but never before did he embrace her in such protective gesture.

Besides, it wasn't simply protective. She couldn't miss the way he looked around with narrowed eyes and slight challenge in his eyes, simultaneously pulling her closer, when they were passing by the clients, everything in him sending one message. 'Mine'.

The detective wasn't going to make a scene in the club, so he let him lead her outside. However, as soon as they exited, she said coldly: "That was unprofessional."

"What, that I made a deal with Bobby, or that he gave me samples of his new stuff?" Lucifer asked shrugging his shoulders. "There is nothing to fuss about. He didn't need anything illegal. And I just want to check whether his new shipment is better than usual."

The detective frowned. No, he wasn't teasing her. When they left the club, he simply removed his hand from his shoulders and acted naturally. Apparently, he didn't even acknowledge the way he behaved. He did it unwittingly, without really paying attention.

Well then, perhaps there was indeed nothing to fuss about, even of her breath was still a bit quickened.

"Just do not gather any more samples," she said only.

* * *

"I see we are constantly lowering our standards," observed Lucifer, when few hours later Chloe pulled the car in front of 'Pekin'. It was the fourth pub with disco music and slot machines they visited this night. The investigation in the previous ones brought no results but worsening the humour of both of them.

The detective was getting sadder and sadder after each visit to the pubs filled with young people, mostly teens. Her heart clenched at the thought, that so many kids have nothing batter to do than waste their time in such dirty and ugly places. Simultaneously she started to think, that if she fails as a parent, in a few years Trixie might be one of these kids, searching for ersatz of closeness in some crappy pub, trusting her health in the hands of scruples dealers.

"It is a waste of time," snorted Lucifer. His good humour was also long gone and forgotten somewhere between squalid slot machines and lots of drunken kids. His impatience grew with each futile conversation. He stopped joking and followed Chloe sulking like a hailstorm cloud. In the last place, he was by a hairs breath by manhandling the impudent informant and Chloe felt, that next time she would have even more problems with holding his temper in control. At some point she even asked him to leave and let her finish the tour alone, but he quite brusquely refused and didn't release her arm until they left the location, proving that his new-found protectiveness was not the one-time incident, but rather a developing trend.

"I have no better idea, do you?" snapped the detective sharper than intended. Her partner didn't grace her with an answer, only sent her heavy glance and headed for the pub.

"We are searching for Frank Bowels," explained Chloe. "Ah, here is he," she pointed at the burly man standing under the wall with slot machines, watching the games. The detective knew this man quite well, having used him as the informant in a few investigations. Bowels was a clever, impudent hustler. If he found it profitable, he provided useful information, but the detective hated him for the way he was staring at her. It made her feel as if some filth was sticking to her body.

Frank Bowels at her sight grimaced and sighed heavily: "You again, Sweetie? Haven't we seen last month? Just do not show your badge here. I do not want to be known as the one who makes friends with the cops." He measured her with his usual leering glance and stopped only to cast a curious glance at Lucifer. "Let's get somewhere more private," he proposed, pointing the way to the pack of the pub.

The detective could almost physically feel Lucifer's irritation.

"I am leading this conversation," she warned her partner when they were following Bowels. "Do not interfere."

"Very well," agreed coldly Lucifer. "The last thing I want to learn are this man's desires," he stated with disgust.

They stopped in a small, secluded passage.

"What is it now, Sweetie?" asked Bowels, crooking his head as if he wanted to look under the neckline of her blouse. "Ask your questions."

"Have you heard about the drug named Death's Door?" the detective asked straightaway, eager to make the conversations as brief as possible. Lucifer, as promised, remained silent behind.

"It is off the market. Your guys closed the lab."

"Someone is selling it again. And he is targeting the kids. Teenagers."

"What's wrong in the little entertainment? The kids are only searching for some fun, Sweetie."

Chloe heard Lucifer shifting behind her.

"Entertainment?..." he asked quietly. Something was hiding in his tone made the hair on Chloe's neck rise.

"Speak, Bowers," the detective said angrily, stepped slightly in front of her partner, to underline, that she is the one interacting with Bowels. "Too many of these kids are now at the hospital so that I would let you joke now. If you know anything, speak."

"Some incentive, Sweetie?" drawled Bowels, evidently in the mood to banter.

"Detective, let me… provide him with an incentive," whispered Lucifer. The detective turned back to look at him. His eyes were transfixed in Bowels and he was so tense that Chloe half expected the air around him to crackle with electricity.

"Lucifer," she warned. "Do not".

"He knows something," stated her partner, more to himself than to her.

"Lucifer," she repeated, but she realized it was too late, something in him snapped. With this unsettling, inhuman speed, he stepped in front of her, grabbed Bowels' shirt and pressed him to the wall. Chloe gasped and for a second closed her eyes. Good luck with trying to stop Lucifer now, once he crossed the threshold of his anger. At least, he was grasping Bowels shirt, not throat. The detective decided not to intervene for a while. She stepped back, leant over the wall and rubbed her forehead, waiting for her partner to handle the situation in his way.

"Listen, you pitiful creature," hissed Lucifer, leaning over the man in his grasp. "I could show you… entertainment. I know what kind of entertainment awaits for such lot like you… in the beyond… At the moment, I would very much prefer to see you get what you deserve… rather sooner than later. So, if there is any way that you can prove yourself useful," Lucifer took a breath and concluded quietly, accenting each word, "do it quickly."

Frank Bowels stared at Lucifer agape, so petrified with fear, that he didn't even try to free from his grasp.

"Speak," ordered Lucifer.

"I only heard that some idiot was trying to sell it," Bowels now started to speak so quickly that he was swallowing the consonants. "A new guy, none of the dealers. He needed money. Told the stuff was worth much more, and that it was an occasion. He found some curious kids, who bought it. That's all. I do not even know where they took it. Not here. I swear. "

"The name? Where do we find him?" demanded Chloe, turning toward Bowels again. She looked with anxiety at Lucifer's hand, but he was still grasping only Bowels' shirt, not causing him any physical harm.

"I don't know. I have no idea," sobbed Frank.

"Can you contact him?"

"I do not know how."

"Let him go," Chloe said to her partner. "Lucifer, let him go," she repeated a bit stronger.

Very slowly, Lucifer released the grasp on the Bowels' shirt and the man slumped on the ground, shaking. For a moment, Chloe wondered why exactly was he so terrified. After all, the man with his past shouldn't get broken with a few threats.

Unless there was something more in Lucifer's… persuasion powers, something she yet remained unaware of.

"Frank," she said as calmly, as she could, "if you happen to meet this man again, help us to get him. Ask him to bring more of his stuff, make an appointment, let us know… You know how to do it, right?"

Bowels raised the head in her direction, but his eyes were unfocused, running wildly around.

"Do you understand, what I am asking you about?" the detective repeated more impatiently.

"Yes," nodded the man, but remained distracted. "Yes, I will try." He made a small move, but not to stand up, only to crawl back to distance himself from Lucifer.

Chloe sighed, realizing that Frank Bowels, despite his promise, would do anything to avoid the next meeting with her partner. Most probably he would leave the city as soon as possible.

"Let's go," she said angrily to Lucifer and turned away, heading to the exit. "You scared him," she accused when they were outside. "How?" she wondered aloud, trying to replay the scene from the passage in her mind.

"I showed him a bit of his possible future," replied Lucifer, shrugging his shoulders and proceeded casually toward the car.

 _Great. Just another enigmatic answer. As if it explained anything._ Now it was Chloe's turn to feel her temper taking better of her.

"Well then, perhaps you should have thought twice about it because now he is too terrified to cooperate."

"Because you were making such great progress on your own," snorted Lucifer and that was all that Chloe needed to snap.

"I have just got the nearest I could to the man who sells this shit!" she yelled, not caring that they are standing in the middle of the parking. "Bowels saw him! Spoke to him! If you didn't break him, I would use him to set a trap!"

"Bowels told you about this man only after I, how you called it, broke him," observed angrily Lucifer and Chloe bridled with irritation, realizing he was right. "But I assure you, Detective, I merely… grazed him. If I wanted to break him, I could do so much more… And he would deserve it all," concluded Lucifer and turned to the car to open the door.

 _Right. Because that, as usual, justifies everything. These were bad people and they deserved it._ Chloe almost boiled with fury, heaving heard the too familiar explanation, and shouted:

"Oh, you are such a hypocrite!"

Lucifer turned to her like a streak.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked quietly and even in the dark she saw how dark his eyes were.

For a second, the detective regretted her words. Perhaps it was unwise to quarrel with him when he still didn't fully calm down after the confrontation with Bowels… perhaps she shouldn't question his sincerity, he was so obsessed about… but no. She couldn't afford to be afraid of Lucifer. They were partners, she needed to be able to speak her mind to him, always and ever.

She made a step toward him, to show she was ready to confront him and said, accusatory tone clear in her voice:

"You accept Robert Stenson. You know him, you joke with him, you make deals with him… And then, all of a sudden, you despise of Bowels. What's the difference?"

"Fundamental!" Lucifer replied immediately, without much thinking. Only after a few seconds, when the detective didn't move, he added with some consideration:

"Free will."

Chloe laughed mirthlessly. "I see that according to you, free will covers most questions. Well, you need to elaborate it for my sake."

Lucifer shifted, looking around as if searching for inspiration. Then for a while, he fidgeted with his cufflinks, until finally, he started to speak.

"Stenson knows what he is selling and his customers know what they are buying. Bowels doesn't mind the kids in his pub take every poison that would provide him with a commission from the dealer," he snorted scornfully. "None of these young people wanted to end in the hospital with brain damage, in a coma. They… they didn't know. They weren't… informed. You need to be… adequately informed, to make decisions, using your free will."

The detective shook her head. "That's the most twisted line of thinking I have ever heard."

"On the contrary, Detective, it is very simple. These are your laws that are twisted."

 _Our laws? Our?..._ Chloe almost gasped, indignant how easily he distanced himself from what she treated as the absolute imperative. She felt that conversation is getting out of control, spiralling in the very wrong direction. However, she couldn't leave him with the last word… especially like this. "Our laws?" she repeated with narrowed eyes and searched for the most suitable way to show him the error in his thinking. "And what about your deals? Your favours? Are your partners always… adequately informed what exactly they would get?"

She always felt there was something more in the deals, something that remained unspoken and unnamed, but that was the quintessential – and most important – part of them. She hit well, because Lucifer at first inhaled sharply, his eyes full of indignation as if he heard the worst insult, but then – stepped back and for a moment run his eyes aside.

"They always get what they asked for," he replied stiffly. It sounded defensive.

"That's it? 'They get what they asked for 'full stop'?" pressed Chloe. "Or is there something more, after this full stop?"

Lucifer tormented his cufflinks once again. "Sometimes there are be consequences," he admitted after a while.

"I bet there are always consequences. But you do not care to explain them, right? To let everyone made 'an informed choice'," snorted Chloe, so angry, that she even tried to mock his accent.

"Darling, you expect too much from me," hissed Lucifer. "I am nobody's guardian angel only the fallen one."

The detective threw her arms in the air in exasperation. Of course, when he lacked substantial arguments, he escaped into his metaphors.

"I am not going to talk with you like this," she retorted and sat in the car, slamming the door. She was still shivering with anger and the keys slipped from her hands, falling somewhere on the floor. For a long while, she struggled in vain to feel them in darkness.

In the meantime, Lucifer took place on the passenger seat and for a moment observed her futile efforts, until he reached the switch and lit the lamp in the car.

"Better?" he asked dryly.

Chloe froze. All of a sudden, the reminiscences of the dream she had this morning overwhelmed her. That was almost exactly what he said in her dream, in this friendly white light securing them.

In that dream in which she hoped he would perhaps kiss her.

They shouldn't quarrel. They were on the same side, after all. They were partners.

She spotted the keys, slowly raised them and straightened. "Yes. Thank you. And I am sorry. I didn't intend to offend you. I know you are always true to your word," she said honestly, finding her anger dispersed somehow. "I am simply tired."

Lucifer's expression immediately softened. He was so very eager to accept the reconciliatory gesture, that Chloe felt almost guilty. "And I might have been a bit too impulsive. I am sorry if I overstepped," he said gently

"You didn't," replied the detective. It was true. After all, he didn't hurt Bowels. And he didn't even raise the voice at her, though she questioned his integrity, the feature he was so sensitive about. She looked at him smiling apologizingly and he smiled back, his eyes as warm and caring as in her dream.

And then, suddenly, she recalled also this inexplicable sense of dread from her dream, of something terrible bound to happen...

Chloe averted her eyes, starting the engine. Well, she certainly didn't find him 'repulsive' as she said once, anymore. However, the time when she couls honestly say 'You do not scare me' was long gone either.


	11. The beginning of the end

On the very same night, they visited a few more locations, where Chloe wanted to speak with the LAPD informants. However, in vain. The detective was right – the closest they got to the mysterious dealer was what Frank Bowels told them.

“Let’s finish this and drive back you to the LUX,” the detective proposed finally to her partner. “Then I will go to the precinct and read the case files once more. Perhaps I will find some loose ends… some trails I missed…”

“Now? It is almost 3 am,” observed Lucifer. “You should rather go home and rest.”

“That’s fine. That won’t be the first night I spent at work,” stated Chloe. She was determined not to stop until she would find some foothold, something to start with on the next day. She just couldn’t accept the possibility, that some new kids would land in the hospital, while she would still be at the dead end. “Besides, Dan agreed to stay with Trixie tonight. He would send her to school in the morning.”

“Ah, if the Detective Douche is staying at your home tonight, then, by all means, the precinct is a much better idea,” smirked Lucifer. “Of course, I am going with you, Detective,” he ordered in a tone that dismissed any possible objections on her side.

“There is no need. It has been a long night,” Chloe tried anyway. “Why don’t you catch some sleep instead?”

“Detective, no one sends the Devil to the bed. Though you could always invite him there,” he grinned and Chloe rolled her eyes, pretending to be angry. To tell the truth, she was happy, the usual camaraderie was back in their relations and Lucifer didn’t pout after their quarrel. Besides, if she had missed something in the reports, the second pair of eyes could turn out useful. She could give him files and herself use the computer.

At this time of the night, the precinct was relatively quiet, only the night shift working. Chloe handed Lucifer the interrogation protocols and herself started to check the LAPD database, searching for possible missed connections of the dealers they arrested. 

From time to time she couldn’t help but cast a quick glance at Lucifer, admiring how concentrated he looked like, going through the files with commendable speed. The detective didn’t expect he could be so quiet and focused. She didn’t know this side of him so far. Of course, he had this amazing library, but she didn’t saw him as a man who could truly appreciate the lecture. But of course, he must have been reading a lot. After all, he had a vast knowledge about many unique subjects, quite regularly surprising her with remarks about some details unknown to most of the people. He must have learnt it from the books. It was obvious, that this boisterous playboy persona was only the most superficial part of his character. The real Lucifer was much more complicated and intriguing than this. 

Very intriguing. 

The detective shook her head and returned to her work, clicking one name after another, skimming one short bio after another, trying to concentrate on the condensed histories of crime and offences…

Her eyes run again to her partner. She felt a bit ashamed, being the one casting the secret glances at him when he remained so focused at work – shouldn’t it be the other way round – but she couldn’t help it. He looked good, reading. He always looked good, but this was a different type of ‘good’, than his usual energetic liveliness. Chloe’s gaze for a moment rested at his hands, the way that his long fingers were flipping through the files… The pianists usually had lovely hands, and so did he. 

He flipped the page and the ring on his fingers flickered. Chloe frowned, as the ring reminded her in a very unsettling way he was not only the pianist. What kind of stone it was, always so dark? No, she didn’t want to know. 

She carefully moved the sight to his face. The lock of hair was falling at his temple, finally the first sign of disarray in his meticulously arranged hairstyle. A rare occurrence and Chloe took her time to memorise the view.

Lucifer shifted himself on the chair to a more comfortable position and Chloe quickly moved her eyes to the screen again. 

Damn, that database was boring.

Everything not connected with Lucifer was boring. 

Chloe almost moaned at the realization of her feelings, of this chaotic, but sweet turmoil in her head - the most irresponsible schoolgirl crush, unbefitting and unnecessary in the life of a grown-up woman. What a mess. What a bad idea. She was just going recently through her biggest emotional disappointment, named divorce. She was too wrecked, too old and too responsible for butterflies in her stomach.

 _Focus, Decker,_ she admonished herself. _You are not a teenager. Focus on work._

She opened new windows, adamant not to tear her eyes from the database until she would be finished with the search no matter how boring and tedious the task was. Her partner wasn’t exactly boyfriend material. He would bring her nothing more than a little bit of fun and a lot of disappointment. 

“Why was Ben Mitchell released?” asked suddenly Lucifer, with obvious irritation.“What is the sense of making so much effort and arresting the suspects, if they get released in a day or two? And I am the one who gets to be called a hypocrite!”

Chloe sighed and closed her eyes for a while. And here she thought their quarrel was forgotten. Of course not. That was a side of Lucifer she knew well. Whatever lapses she might have made relating to him, everything was easily and gracefully forgiven – but definitely not forgotten. 

“I apologized for that, Lucifer,” she replied. “Besides, Ben Mitchell was not released, only bailed. It is a standard procedure. I do not like when scoundrels get away too, but Mitchell is far from it. He will face charges in the court.”

“Waste of time,” muttered her partner, but returned to the lecture. 

Well, at least he was doing his job, not dwelling on the issue of butterflies in the stomach.

For a long while, they worked in silence. The detective, true to her resolution, didn’t tear the eyes from the screen until they started to water. Slowly, the fatigue and sleepiness started to take better of her. She could spend the whole night on the chase or at the stakeout, but tedious work on the database was too much for her tired mind. Her eyelids were becoming heavier and heavier and after a few desperate tries of waking up and concentrating, her battle with fatigue was lost. She even didn’t notice the moment when she fell into slumber until the clatter of something being put on her desk woke her up.

The detective tilted her head and opened the eyes, to see a mug of coffee in front of her. 

“I would drive you home but I will not risk sending you into Daniel’s den,” stated Lucifer, chuckling at the joke, he tried to explain, when she stared at him blankly: “You know, like the Daniel in the lion’s den. In the Book of Daniel. No?... Does not ring a bell?... You did not do the Sunday school?...”

“Did you read the files and why are you not sleepy?” asked Chloe in a hoarse voice, reaching for the coffee. 

“One or two nights awake make no difference,” Lucifer shrugged his shoulders. “And yes, I read your files. Wake up and let’s talk about it.”

Chloe for a moment struggled with sore muscles and cold shivers running through her body. Coffee was helping, but she still would prefer to curl in some warm, soft place, preferably… no. She shook her head once again, forbidding her thoughts to wander further.

“I am fine. Let’s speak,” she said in the most professional voice she could muster and straightened in order to appear more official. The effect was spoiled by her hair, that somehow escaped the clip and at this moment fell over her eyes. 

“You are not fine, but you are adorable.” Lucifer smiled at her, so warmly, fixating the glance at her hair, or perhaps at her lips, and for a moment the world around them stood still. 

Chloe realized, that he was about to reach and brush her hair away, so she quickly forced them into the clip herself because there was no need to feed her unwanted crush.

And she regretted it in the very same second.

“And your reports are absolutely cogent,” stated Lucifer, blissfully unaware of her heart’s dilemmas. “I couldn’t spot any… loose ends. Except for… the very beginning,” he stated with a certain hesitation, showing her the very first document concerning the case, the one that she showed him a few weeks ago when the whole case started. 

The notice concerning the alleged burglary to the Jeremy’s Mitchell herbary shop.

The detective immediately realized, what he was referring to. 

“Yes, the burglary,” she said. “I was wondering about it too.”

“Why did the murderer reported it exactly as the burglary? Why not an assault? Scrimmage? Murder even? They could have said anything.”

“It might have just been the first thing he thought about. Absolutely incidental.” The detective tried to be sceptical, to avoid falling into another dead end. However, she had her own doubts concerning this notice and the fact, that Lucifer on his own came to the same conclusion, only straightened her suspicions.

“Let’s assume it wasn’t incidental. What would be the difference? What would the police do in the burglary case?”

The detective considered it for a moment. She was used to investigating the homicide cases, where the main aim was finding the culprit, not the robberies. “Perhaps search the premises? Check what was missing?” she stated unsurely. “I am not certain. Usually, when the murderer’s motive is connected with the robbery and something valuable is missing, there is an insurance company involved. But in Mitchell’s shop… many wares were destroyed… something could have been missing, but...”

“No, no,” Lucifer shook his head. “It was the murderer who hoped that the police would search the shop. What if it was not something that was missing, but something that police should have found?”

“The drugs?” Chloe’s eyes went wide open. “That’s a very far-fetched assumption. The drug was produced in the lab, Mitchell only sold some ingredients. However,” she added quickly, before Lucifer’s face fell with disappointment, “I thought already it might have been a good idea to check this shop again. I only left it for later. There was no hurry, it remained closed since Jeremy’s death. And now, since the drug is again at the market, even if the lab was taken… now it sounds wise to check it.”

“And how are we going to do this? Please tell me it is going to be more fun than going through the inventory books.”

“If there are drugs in this shop, they are not in the inventory books,” Chloe shrugged her shoulders. “No, we are going to set a trap.”

Lucifer beamed as if offered a new toy, and the detective quickly worked out the details. 

“If there was something hidden in the shop, the most likely suspects are people who had easy access to it. I will call both the widow and Ben Mitchell today, to tell them, that tomorrow the LAPD would run detailed search and stocktaking of the shop. And tonight we would visit the shop and wait if anyone appears. Perhaps we would manage to lure someone out.”

“Besides,” Lucifer added with consideration, “Bowels promised to ask our elusive dealer for more. If he manages to meet him… and if there is indeed a connection…”

 _And if Bowels is still in the city,_ added the detective dubiously, but didn’t voice it. What happened, happened.

“Well then, the trap it is,” she concluded and check the watch. “Tonight. It seems that we are moving to night shifts. Are you sure that the LUX can suffer another evening without your presence?” she asked teasingly.

“The LUX is for me, not me for the LUX,” Lucifer shrugged his shoulders, his expression being the one of the absolute monarch commenting on his domain. Chloe found his royal pose so endearing, that she couldn’t help, but laugh and joke:

“And you are for me, right?” 

“Of course. If that’s what you wish, I am at your services,” replied Lucifer with a flourish, but at the end of the sentence, his voice faltered. The detective immediately regretted her words, seeing how his expression changed, into the frown of deep confusion.

 _Great. He must have felt I am trying to… ensnare him, or something,_ thought bitterly Chloe. _What kind of idiot asks the sworn playboy ‘to be there for her’?_

“Right, so I would need to settle this with Monroe, and get her authorization,” she stated after the moment awkward silence. “She should be there in less than two hours or so. I guess I will just wait for her.”

She had to face another wave of awkward silence, as Lucifer didn’t reply, immersed in some inner quandary. 

“So, I will just… go to the social room and try to catch a nap,” she continued, bravely pretending everything was fine. “I will call you later.” Now, that was a clumsy retreat. 

"Yes, of course," Lucifer replied only.

The detective smiled unsurely, nodded and went to the social room.

Luckily, the small couch was free and she could lie down, wrapping herself in the blanket. She thought she wouldn’t be able to fell asleep, after the coffee and all these emotions, but she drifted away as soon as her head touched the cushion.

* * *

She woke up two hours later and the precinct was already filled with people buzzing around. The detective tried to make herself as presentable, as possible, but the sleepless night left a shadow on her face. Well, if she was going to spend the next night on the stakeout, she would drive home now and sleep during the day.

“Hi Dan,” she said, seeing her ex-husband. “How was the morning with Trixie? Did you make her a lunchbox to school?”

“Yes, I have it all covered,” he replied quite reluctantly. “Did you sleep here, or what?”

“Just a couple of hours. We spent the night asking the informants and reading the files.”

“We as you and your new boyfriend?”

Chloe flinched at the reluctant tone in Dan’s voice. “You know who I am working with. Give it up, ok?” 

Dan grimaced and Chloe realized he was tensed and angry. She knew him well enough to suspect, that the real reason for his irritation was not her or Lucifer, but some problem connected with work. 

“Is everything going fine with your case? Benitez?...” she asked without much consideration and regretted it immediately, because Dan bridled as if she hit him.

“Your partner shouldn’t work on your computer,” he said angrily, not answering her question. “He is not authorized to access our database.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Chloe confused and followed Dan’s sight toward her desk. Though they were separated from it by several glass panels, she could see that Lucifer sitting behind her desk.

 _So he didn’t leave. He was waiting for me,_ something sang in her, and she immediately blushed and of course, Dan noticed it, snapping angrily:

“If you gave him your passwords, it is a breach of security.”

“Oh, then report it to the Lieutenant, please,” Chloe snapped back, fully realizing it was mean of her, because Olivia Monroe would give gladly give Lucifer all her own passwords, and access codes, together with the keys to her apartment if he only asked.

“I am not the snout,” retorted Dan, and that was even meaner because he accented the ‘I’ word and Chloe felt all the bitterness of Palmetto case again.

She turned on her heels and left wordlessly, ignoring Dan calling behind her: “Chloe, wait! I didn’t mean it, I am sorry!”

Sometimes saying ‘sorry’ was worthless, Lucifer was right about that.

The detective made a beeline toward her desk, but stopped in a distance of few steps, just before Lucifer would be able to notice her.

She gave herself a few seconds to indulge her little crush. For a moment, she imagined that everything was simple. That handsome, intelligent and witty man was interested in her. That he waited two very early hours in her office for her to wake up… perhaps because he wanted to drive her home. She would like that very much. 

And everything was just as simple. There was no playboy problem and no relation issues. There was no queue of admirers waiting for being invited to his bedroom. 

And no people were losing their minds when he was losing his temper. 

Just the man right for her, who made her feel alive – and safe.

The detective closed her eyes and opened them again, smiling with indulgence at her naivety. Who has she been cheating? There was nothing simple in Lucifer.

Just like the way he was sitting now – sprawled on her chair, his long legs resting on the carton with the spare ream of printing paper, he appeared at ease and comfortable, but even from a distance and through the glass panel the detective saw that he was all tensed and tight. No, he didn’t use her computer, the screen was black. He was simply sitting, motionless for the whole time she was watching him, and something told her he might have been sitting like that for the whole two hours while she slept.

“Hi. You didn’t go home?” she asked, quite senselessly, nearing to the desk.

Lucifer flinched as if awoken from some very deep reverie. “Oh, Detective, have you rested? No, I didn’t. I have been thinking.”

Uh-oh, goodbye the sense of safety, because if he had been sitting here for two hours, in this silent, predatory concentration, thinking – nothing good could get out of it.

“Yes?...” she asked weakly.

“I was thinking about what you told me last night. That I… do not deliver… adequate information.”

 _This again?_ “Lucifer, I apologized!” the detective almost shouted, barely holding her temper. Of course, she would hear no end of this, he was bound to recall their little quarrel ad nauseam.

“Oh no,” Lucifer shook his head, meeting her sight with his dark eyes. “You were right.” 

“I was?” Chloe frowned.

“Yes,” he nodded seriously. “The…complete and reliable information is essential in making a conscious choice.”

The gravity in his words was troubling at least. The detective sat on the spare chair and chuckled, to ease the tension. “So are you going to add some fine print to your deals? I-Owe-You Miranda laws?”

“What? I wasn’t speaking about deals,” Lucifer shook his head with distraction. He didn’t laugh with her. “I was speaking about you.”

 _Shit._ The smile died on Chloe’s lips and everything in her clenched in sudden, inexplicable stress. 

“It came to my mind, that it might be… unfair to…” Lucifer avoided her eyes and hesitated, in search for words, but spoke further. “That it would be unfair to… enjoy your company while…”

“No,” whispered Chloe. 

“While you are not adequately informed,” concluded Lucifer and sighed with determination, as if he just passed some threshold, but still saw many thresholds ahead of him.

 _Why do we have to speak about it here, at the precinct?_ thought desperately Chloe. _But of course, why should he care? The precinct is for him, not vice versa,_ she mocked bitterly. 

“Couldn’t we postpone it for later?” she asked, but he ignored her. Of perhaps didn’t even hear her, struggling with his one-sided conversation.

“The choice you are making, Detective…” he continued, still looking somewhere aside, “Of course providing that I am correctly guessing that you are, indeed, making the choice, but I think that I am…” he fleetingly smiled to her, but then escaped his eyes again. 

_Of course, he noticed,_ thought Chloe, once again gloomily pitying her naivety. How could she assume that he, so sensitive at each change of her mood, wouldn’t notice all her secret glances, all the confusion and awkwardness in her behaviour? That he won’t notice her falling for him?

“I would like… I think that you should be certain of what you are doing. Of what you wish for,” Lucifer stressed, referring to their previous exchange that apparently started the chain of his reflections.

“No,” she replied again, a bit louder. Suddenly, she felt the same wave of panic, like in her dream from the previous night. As if something terrible was about to happen.

She was ignored again.

“So, Detective, even if I would very much like to… play my usual, not necessarily clean card and just stick to the fact I told the truth, many times… I have to admit that I could do more to make you, in fact, believe the truth,” another sigh, another threshold passed. 

How close were they to the final?

Chloe struggled with the childish need to close her eyes and ears. She managed somehow to build around herself a plausible explanation. She wanted it to remain this way. A wide stretched assumption here and there. Something overlooked, something ignored. An ambiguous joke, an indulgent shake of the head. Hypnosis, family issues, drugs, bad temper. It was perhaps not entirely coherent, but it was enough.

At least her senses and world-view remained intact. After all, she didn’t believe in anything, that couldn’t be rationalized, touched and examined.

And he wanted to spoil it.

“No. It is neither the place nor the time,” she said decisively, standing up. He also moved and stood in front of her.

“Detective,” he said placatingly,“I believe you should have all the necessary information to make a conscious choice.” He finally looked her straight in the eye and she realized they were crossing the last thresholds. “So that you could act on your free will…”

“No!...” she shouted so violently, that Lucifer flinched and looked at her with disbelief. This time, she finally got his attention.

And not only his. People, who were passing by her room, slowed down and cast curious glances in their direction and Dan, who somehow happened to be near as well, entered the room. 

“Everything fine here?” He measured Lucifer with threatening glance as if he was the one behaving aggressively.

“Leave us,” replied Lucifer, barely paying attention, in a dismissive tone she never heard him use before. Perhaps only to Maze.

“Chloe?” Dan turned to her. “I am not leaving until you say so.”

The detective struggled to shift the attention from the conversation with Lucifer to her ex-husband. Dan was looking at her with an apology and genuine concern in his eyes and for a moment, Chloe pitied him. He was evidently sorry for their last quarrel and most probably he was waiting near her desk for the occasion to speak with her, to make up for his last outburst.

However, she was too shaken with her own feelings to care for his. And he was not the one occupying all her thoughts now.

“Leave us, Dan, please,” she said clearly. “Everythings fine.”

Dan bridled with irritation, bit his lip and nodded, heading toward the door. Chloe felt relieved that he would leave without a further scene when he halted and turned toward Lucifer.

“I know, what you are trying to do,” he said angrily, stepping in front of Chloe’s partner and looking him challengingly.

“Oh, do you now?...” asked quietly Lucifer, with an unpleasant mocking chuckle.

He was looking at Dan, crooking the head in this specific manner that reminded Chloe more of a reptile, or a bird. The detective realized, that despite the appearances of calm, Lucifer was angry, very angry. Probably the real reason for his anger was his stressful confession she interrupted so abruptly, however, he was focusing his attention at Dan now. 

“You are messing in her head,” continued Dan, unabashed.

“Am I?...” repeated Lucifer even quieter.

“You are trying to… to separate her. From me,” Dan almost choked with emotions. “You think you can do everything and get away with it. You are manipulating everyone around. And Chloe… so that she wouldn’t be able to see, what kind of bastard you are.”

Chloe stared at her ex-husband with opened eyes. There was something not right with him. It wasn’t like Dan, to be that open… and emotional. She cast a quick glance at Lucifer, taking in his concentrated sight and malicious smirk and realized that it as his doing. He was playing his... trick again. Perhaps with more subtlety than with suspects but still, he was goading Dan to spill out, deliberately leading him at the verge of emotional outburst.

“Then tell me. What kind of bastard am I?...” Lucifer made a small step toward Dan invading his personal space. “Tell me. Or perhaps…”

“That’s enough,” she said sharply, stepping in between them. “Lucifer, leave him.”

Lucifer grimaced and on his face passed the shadow of regret as if he was waiting for the occasion to unleash his frustration. However, he stepped back without objection and even sat on the chair, to underline his peaceful attitude. 

“Me? Why me?” He asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “He is the one doing the shouting. He burst in here. And he is the one caring the gun,” he observed innocently.

Chloe narrowed her eyes, suspecting mockery, but Lucifer appeared absolutely honest. Even a little hurt. Besides, he was right. Dan was the one expressing acyve aggression.

“He is got a point, Dan,” she said. “Please, leave, we have work to do.” 

Dan for a moment shifted the glance between her and Lucifer. “I hope that you know what you are doing, Chlo. Good luck,” he stated bitterly and turned to leave. 

The detective let the breath she didn’t know she was holding. 

“Oh, Daniel just a moment,” called Lucifer. “I read the files of the Detective’s case today.”

Chloe jumped, turning to him with reproach, but her partner appeared absolutely composed and professional, reaching toward Dan one of her reports. He even said ‘Daniel’ not ‘Douche’.

“So what?” asked Dan, refusing to take the folder.

“I noticed, what Alex Derham said about the stunt they played on the competition,” continued her partner, undiscouraged by Dan’s tardiness. “The murder of Mitchell was a retaliation. It is quite obvious, that the killers of Jeremy Mitchell were the members of the gang you are investigating. It is only logical to assume, that this first ‘stunt’ was played on them. Did you manage to learn, what was it?”

Dan grimaced. “No. I did not,” he replied reluctantly. 

Chloe bit her lips. They already spoke about it earlier and Dan really tried to find some information. He was quite frustrated, that Benitez didn’t help. Pity that Lucifer…

“I see. A run of misfortune, huh?” sympathised Lucifer in his silky voice. “ No luck at love, no luck at work?... Never mind, Daniel, there is nothing you could do about it. Some people are simply inferior.” 

Dan wordlessly launched himself toward Lucifer, fists clenched, features twisted with rage. Luckily, Chloe acted on instinct, stepping in front of the Dan, as soon as Lucifer finished speaking, and managed to intercept him.

And Lucifer didn’t even flinch on his chair, only tilted his head, in a very snake-like manner, looking at Dan with satisfied glitter in his eyes. Even if he remained seated, he appeared more than ready for confrontation.

The detective concentrated on her ex-husband. “I need to speak with Monroe now, about my next stakeout,” she said slowly. “It would probably take the most of the night again. Dan, would you be so kind and take care of Trixie again tonight?”

Mentioning both Monroe and Trixie helped. Dan moved the sight at her, blinking, hopefully at the realization, that it wouldn’t be wise to attack unarmed work colleague at the middle of the precinct. The mad rage slowly disappeared from his expression, gicing place to confusion. 

“Yes,” he muttered.

“Thank you,” nodded Chloe and without further explanation, shovelled him to the corridor. pushed him outside. Dan left, unusually meekly, rubbing his forehead and looking around with dazed expression. Chloe saw similar, haze and embarrassed expression, by the suspects released from Lucifer’s hypnotic trick.

The detective sent then a reproachful glance toward her partner, for a moment really wanting to give him a piece of her mind, because – what the hell was he thinking? Dan could have gotten suspended for that.

Her partner corrected his cufflinks, but apart from that didn’t show any sign of repentance.

“You spoilt my fun, Detective,” he complained instead. “Let me at least drive you home, when you are done talking with the Lieutenant. You look worn out.”

“Oh, you have no idea…” sighed Chloe, shaking her head. 

* * *

One could say that on the whole, the morning went according to Chloe’s will. Dan didn’t trouble her anymore. Monroe authorized her stakeout in Mitchell’s shop. Lucifer drove her back home and - apparently feeling that he crossed the line toying with Dan - kept the conversation light and easy. He didn’t try to return to the subject he started and she interrupted.

However, it weighted on them, like the proverbial elephant in the room, reducing their exchange to some neutral remarks concerning weather or traffic. Finally, when they parked in front of Chloe’s house and she was about to get out of the car, she started hesitantly:

“Lucifer, I… I know, that you wanted to…” the words failed her.

“Everything is fine, Detective,” cut her off Lucifer. It sounded a bit harsh, but then he smiled to her, as usual.

“Great. See you tonight,” nodded Chloe, also trying to smile as usual, probably failing.

 _Everything’s fine._ Everything was fine, because he liked her. He always made it clear that he was treating her like someone special.

But if it would be someone else? If someone else would try to close his ears, to escape hearing some uncomfortable information?

 _The uncomfortable truth,_ corrected herself Chloe, biting her lips.

Oh, she could imagine, what he would say to anyone else in her place. She could imagine it so clearly, that she almost heard in her mind the words spoken in the British accent: ‘You are lying to yourself, Detective. And I do not like liars.’


	12. Into darkness

When Chloe and Lucifer on the evening sneaked to Mitchell’s shop – very carefully, through the cellars of the adjacent building – the detective took some time to investigate the premises.

The forensics left Mitchell’s shop in relative order. The destroyed wares were cleaned, the crushed glass removed. The detective knew, that all potentially dangerous substance were secured. As the result, a few shelves were empty, but apart from that, the shop looked absolutely normal - jars and paper bags with herbs, some cosmetics and small workshop where Jeremy prepared ointments, with a few burners, jars with some reagents and, of course, herbal knives. Chloe at their few flinched, recalling both the Jeremy Mitchell’s body and the gore massacre in the pub. 

The detective couldn’t help but look around, in search of something that could be similar to the drugs, but she wasn’t surprised when she found nothing. If it was laying somewhere in the open, the forensics would certainly have noticed it. Chloe didn’t dare to risk more thorough search, as they needed to stay low and quiet so that their presence would not be noticed from the outside. Instead, she tried to choose the best place for her and Lucifer to wait in the ambush. After the round in the promises, she decided that the most suitable would be the small room at the back, where Jeremy used to sleep when he stayed at the shop for the night. The detective carefully arranged some furniture to provide them with suitable hiding.

Of course, Lucifer didn’t even pretend to be interested in her preparations. When they entered the shop, he started to rummage through the jars, complaining that forensics took everything interested away. And when she returned from the backroom, sweaty after the struggle with the furniture, she found him playing with burners in Jeremy’s lab, watching how the flames were getting higher and bursting in sparks, or diminishing to the smallest flicker.

The detective forced herself to ignore the fact that he was apparently doing it without using the knobs and concentrated on the risk that the light would be noticed through the shutters.

“We cannot be noticed from the outside,” she said warningly. “Do not play with fire.”

“Ah, but Detective,” Lucifer objected softly, with a chuckle that immediately added to the conversation ambiguous shadow, “that’s what I do the best.” He raised his hand over the burner, the flames following it, braiding with his fingers – and quickly withdrew it with a hiss. “Only now I have to take burns into account,” he snorted, nursing his hand. 

Concerned, Chloe quickly examined his palm – the skin was barely reddened. No reason to make a fuss about it. “Don’t be a baby,” she muttered and extinguished the burners. 

The room became completely dark. 

The detective for a moment felt unsure because darkness with Lucifer standing just by her side was filled with so many unnamed things, that it almost made her dizzy.

“Let's go to the backroom,” she said. “We would wait there.”

“That one with the bed?” purred suggestively Lucifer and somehow it eased her tension because it was as if their relations were still on that stage, where he showered her with bad jokes and impudent innuendos she so lightly dismissed.

“Yes. I have even already made use of it,” the detective retorted merrily. 

Jeremy’s bed was low and narrow. The detective turned it over the side so that it would provide them with some shelter when they sat behind it. Whoever entered the shop, wouldn’t notice them, even after switching on the lights, not before entering the back room. 

“Oh? And we are to sit behind it, just like this, on the floor?” observed Lucifer with discontent. “Not very classy.”

“And you would like what? Let me guess, wait in the armchair, sipping your brandy?” snorted Chloe. “Not in this service,” she sighed positioning herself behind the bad. She made sure to have a good view at the inside of the shop through the open door and even took the gun out and checked the firing line.

“You are terribly tense, Detective,” stated Lucifer, sitting by her side, concerned mostly with making himself as comfortable as possible, considering the circumstances. The darkness immediately enveloped him, like a soft blanket hiding his features. The detective more heard than saw him retrieving his famous flask and taking a sip whatever was inside.

She wanted to reproach him, but then she waved her hand.

“I am just worried it is just another dead end,” she admitted. “That we are only losing our time here, and in the meantime, someone is selling this drug again.”

“You should have more faith in your intuition, Detective,” stated earnestly Lucifer and quickly added jokingly: “With exception of your emotional life, of course, because you are making terrible choices in this area.”

Chloe ignored the taunt and sighed. “I do not want another kid to end in the hospital.”

Lucifer didn’t reply at once and for a while, they sat in silence.

“And what about those, who already ended there?” he asked suddenly.

The detective needed to think for a while to understand, that he meant the kids who were in a coma because of the Death’s Door. “The doctors are doing their best to help them,” she stated slowly.

“One is dead,” reminded Lucifer. “They won’t help him.”

“No,” agreed Chloe softly. “Nothing can be done for this one. We can only try to protect others.”

That’s what she was taught during obligatory psychological sessions: that sometimes you need to accept the failure and think about you can do and not about what you cannot.

She couldn’t see Lucifer’s face in the darkness, but still, she felt it didn’t convince him at all.

“For the ones who were wronged, the one who harmed them should be punished,” he stated. 

He didn’t speak with the usual vehemence, that appeared in his voice when he fixated on delivering the punishment, but still in his words was some edge the detective didn’t like. Then, however, she wondered, whether – all the psychological crap about positive thinking aside – her approach was really that different.

 _Even if I was absolutely sure, that there is no one pill of this drug left, I would still need to get this guy,_ she thought with grim determination. _And even if we were the two last people on the Earth, and I could be certain, he won’t hurt anyone else, I would still need to see him brought to justice._

And so would Lucifer. The only difference was that he was speaking about punishment, not justice as if the judgement was already made.

“That’s how you see it, right?” she asked and, realizing that she didn’t voice most of her line of thinking, hurried to explain: “You think that people are judged at the moment they commit the crime, right? Once the deed is done, the culprits bring the verdict upon them and all that’s left is delivering the punishment?”

“Yes,” replied Lucifer immediately. “Exactly.”

“It is never that easy,” the detective shook her head. “The guilt and punishment are for the court to decide. The people are just… too fallible to take such decisions too easily.”

“Oh, yes, you are,” agreed her partner, now with mocking dismay.

The detective grimaced and forced herself to leave his words without the answer. Otherwise, if she addressed that ‘you’, that sounded almost scornfully, they would certainly start to quarrel. Lucifer was always moody, but this evening he was shifting in mere seconds between his usual playfulness and snappy remarks as if he was balancing on edge of an outburst.

The detective tried to pierce the darkness and look at him, but she saw no more than a shape of his silhouette. Still, she noticed that he was barely moving, apart from draining the content of his pocket flask. Even for him, he used it a bit too often.

He might have been tired. After all, he spent the last night sleepless, prowling with her through the city. Herself, she managed to sleep a few hours more today, before Trixie returned from school. However, she wondered, whether Lucifer was provident enough to rest during the day.

“What have you been doing today?” she asked cautiously.

Her partner snorted in reply. “I am afraid that nothing you would approve of.” 

Well then, at best he had been drinking. Definitely not trying to catch up some sleep. The detective could only hope, that, just as he said, two nights without sleep would make no difference for him. 

_Everything’s fine, he said,_ thought gloomily Chloe. _Nothing is fine. He is trying to keep it ‘fine’, but it is not going to work._

Was he still angry at her, for stopping his… speech?... confession?... No, she didn’t like to think about his almost said words, not now, not here in this darkness. 

The detective resigned from the further conversation, feeling that whatever she said could only worsen the situation. She would better wait for his mood to improve. In the meantime, as the minutes passed in the darkness, she started to think about her life, all these small little things that kept her anchored in her safe, daily routine. 

Trixie was ecstatic today when they were able to spend a few more hours than usual. It made Chloe feel happy, but also a bit guilty, that perhaps she was too absent in her daughter’s life. Maybe they should make some fine excursion during the weekend? Some special time, only for two of them. Ah, but was she now becoming a weekend parent? Didn’t the stereotypes say that mothers should provide constant, daily support for the child, give them safe and constant base? Weekends were for the estranged fathers. Chloe smirked ironically – she never was the one to care for the stereotypes – but then frowned at the new, unpleasant thought.

Dan was now extremely engaged in the care over Trixie, more than ever, even when they were still married and lived together. What if he did it keeping in mind the finalization of their divorce? They agreed on joint custody, because it seemed to be the fairest option, what if he intended to question it?

So far, Chloe thought that Dan was trying so hard because he was afraid to lose the place in Trixie’s life. That he searched to connect with his child, to make up from the lost relations with his wife. She understood it, and she would gladly try to help him to overcome his insecurities.

What if she was mistaken? What if she was falling into a trap of some kind?

Chloe’s insides clenched, fear and bitterness turning into something very primal and hostile. If Dan tried to take Trixie from her, she would fight. She could make it ugly, if necessary. Perhaps she should note the time we spent with her child? Record Dan’s failures and mistakes? That wasn’t her style, but what if Dan was doing the same, to use it at court?

“What are you thinking about, Detective?” asked curiously Lucifer. “I almost hear all these little gears in your head moving.”

Chloe smirked, hearing with relief, that he returned to his usual friendly tone and replied honestly: “I was wondering whether Dan is not going to question our joint custody over Trixie.”

“What for? To limit his presence in her life, or yours?” 

Chloe sighed with indulgence. Well, that was Lucifer. If he had any children of his own, he most certainly considered the matter done by sending the cheque. “Mine, of course,” she replied. 

“Your ex is dull, not suicidal,” Lucifer shrugged his shoulders, “but if it worries you, the simplest solution would be to ask him. I can ask him,” he specified and Chloe could almost hear his knowing smile in the darkness.

“No,” she replied and immediately regretted, that she didn’t say it slower or gentler.

“Ah, so now you are afraid to use my help, Detective?...” muttered Lucifer and shifted, trying to make use of her flask again, but evidently it was empty. His irritation was obvious, even if she barely saw him.

So much for a friendly mood. Lucifer was now hurt, angry and probably tired and a little drunk, even if he didn’t show it. A perfect combination for a stakeout companion.

And she has had enough of his moods.

“That’s not what I meant,” snapped Chloe losing her patience. “And stop… acting like this. You are picking on my every word. Just… do not say that everything is fine when it is not. And…”

“Shhh…” Lucifer quieted her and luckily the detective’s instinct made her stop talking at once because the second later they heard someone fiddling with the lock in the door.

Excited, Chloe squeezed Lucifer’s hand, thanking him for a warning and he squeezed her back. For a moment, their partnership was restored to the perfect harmony, when they waited, holding their breaths.

And then, the unknown visitor opened the door and switched the little torch on, and they saw Ben Mitchell quickly crossing the small space of the shop, heading for Jeremy’s workshop.

_Ben Mitchell._

The detective heard Lucifer taking a deep breath. 

Somehow, she wasn’t that surprised, she suspected that it might have been Ben. Her experience and analysis of the evidence indicated that it should rather be someone they already interrogated, not a new player. It was either Ben, or Dorothy, and her money was on Ben.

But Lucifer apparently didn’t expect it, judging from the fact how he froze in surprise. The detective recalled how irritated he was on the morning, after learning, that Ben Mitchell was set free on bail. She could only imagine, how his anger grew now, seeing Ben sneaking into the shop. 

Chloe felt she must act quickly.

She waited, her hand squeezing Lucifer’s arm, this time to keep him in place, observing how Ben Mitchel reached for some jar and cautiously emptied its content on the desk, revealing the double bottom he slowly removed to retrieve something hidden behind it.

The detective took her gun and jumped out of the back room.

“Don’t move, Ben,” she warned, aiming at the man in front of her. “What are you doing here?”

The man froze, staring at her, shock written all over his features. Luckily, he didn’t drop the torch, otherwise, the room would again be flooded in darkness.

“Switch on the lights,” the detective ordered to Lucifer, not letting her aim from Ben Mitchell. 

“And check what is in this jar.”

“That’s my brother’s shop,” stuttered Mitchell. “I didn’t… I just…”

Lucifer disregarded Chloe’s request about the lights and went straight to the desk, to examine the content of the jar with double bottom.

“Pills,” he stated almost obliviously and sighed: “Oh, Benny. Why didn’t you stay in jail?” He spoke it so softly, that Chloe felt goosebumps crawling on her neck.

“Switch on the lights,” she repeated, feeling more and more uncomfortable in the semidarkness, with no more than a small torch that cast more shadows than light. 

Both Lucifer and Ben Mitchell ignored her.

“It is nothing illegal,” defended Mitchell. “It’s just… just a medicine. My medicine My brother kept it here… for me.”

“Tsk, tsk, Benny,” Lucifer shook his head. “I have seen enough drugs to recognize one. Lying is bad. I do not like liars.”

When Lucifer started to speak to the suspect about himself, it wasn’t a good sign. It meant that he was taking personally, that he switched from the role of ‘the consultant’ to the… what was he exactly? Chloe wasn’t sure but she realized they were at a hairbreadth from the moment when the situation would slip from the control.

And, oh, didn’t Lucifer just say that he did not like liars? She felt in his voice a shadow of frustration caused by her… evasion in the morning. The transmission was one of his favourites coping mechanism. Whatever anger he had to hold back while talking with her – because it was her – he would now doubly gladly unleash over Mitchell.

“We would examine these pills in the LAPD laboratory,” she said firmly, trying to remind Lucifer that he was here in the professional assignment. “If these are drugs, they would know it. And what have you been doing yesterday at night?”

Ben Michell looked around with wild expression in his eyes. He started to remind the animal caught in the spotlights. “Nothing,” he replied, his throat evidently dry.

“We will confront you with the personnel of the pub Pekin,” Chloe stated calmly. “If they recognize you…” the detective deliberately didn’t finish the sentence. Ben’s reaction showed her, he knew what she was referring to. He gasped, shook his head, making a small step back.

“No. No, I didn’t.”

He did. He was there, he was trying to sell the drugs. The substance. The Death’s Door. Chloe was now certain she was looking at the guilty man.

And Lucifer also knew it. 

“Oh, I think that you did, Benny,” he purred and something in his voice reminded Chloe of the cat of prey, trying its claws before the attack. 

“Lucifer, switch on the lights,” demanded Chloe sharply, for the third time. “And you, turn around, hands behind you,” she ordered to Mitchell, reaching for her handcuffs. 

When she recalled this situation later, replaying it over and over again in her mind, as it was the moment the whole catastrophe started, she thought that everything could be different, if Ben had simply given up and let her arrest him.

He should have done it. He was a middle-aged slug, who made his life preying on the people who were wiser, like his brother, or bolder, like the drug gang.

Or, perhaps, the catastrophe could be avoided, if she didn’t ask Lucifer to go and switch on the lights. Here she was the only one to blame. However, she wanted to keep him away from Ben Mitchell, just to avoid what finally happened anyway.

Lucifer shrugged his shoulders and finally turned back, heading for a switch. 

And Ben Mitchell - raised one of his hands, as if indicating surrender, whereas with the second one swept the original content of the jar from the desk, the small nodules of some substance crashing over the floor. 

A flash, a bang and smoke.

Chloe, blinded by the sudden outburst, instinctively covered her eyes and made a step back toppling over something. 

The smoke smelled familiar. She saw something like this on the chemical workshop she went to with Trixie. The kids were shouting with delight during the experiment with - what was it? Magnesia? Metallic oxide? Nevermind. The trick consisted of throwing the substance, that burst out, making a lot of noise. Nothing dangerous. Only that now her eyes, unused to the light, were practically blinded by the sudden flash. 

Something heavy hit her arm, falling with a loud clatter on the floor. _A fucking herbal knife,_ she realized, squinting her eyes. Ben threw at her a herbal knife. Luckily, he was too weak and the blade didn’t cut anything more than the sleeve of her jacket. 

She saw no movement in the darkness, only heard a short struggle, Mitchell’s cry and loud rumble, when he landed on the other side of the shop, crashing with his weight the shelves. 

“Lucifer, stop!” she called, blinking desperately, the after-images of the little outburst was still dancing in front of her eyes. If she didn’t ask him to switch on the lights, he would probably be now as blind as her. Somehow, they would manage to tackle Ben Mitchell down together. Instead, she was now almost helpless and Lucifer could take over the situation.

“You should have gone with the detective, Benny-boy,” she heard him saying. “I would have let her take you. It would be so much better choice, you know. But now your chance is gone.”

“Lucifer, don’t,” she said quickly, standing up. “I am fine. He is under arrest. We are taking him to the precinct.” 

The little torch got lost somewhere, the room was completely dark again. She heard Ben’s moans and ragged breath, as he was scrambling from the floor and headed in his direction, but the glass and the remains from the broken shelves crunched under her feet, so, changing her mind, she reached for the switch herself, groping for it in the darkness, to finally turn on the lights.

The switch clicked, but the only result was a screeching sound and a few sparks that faded quickly. _Damn, a great moment for a short circuit,_ silently swore Chloe. 

“Let’s not spoil the mood. Benny would now tell us all about these little pills of his, the pills that send stupid kids to the premature end,” stated Lucifer with a calm that chilled the blood in Chloe’s veins. “The kids that should have their life, before they pass the threshold of beyond. Why did you take it from them, Benny?”

“Don’t do it,” whispered Chloe, not sure, whether she was speaking to Lucifer or to Mitchell.

“Speak, Benny,” Lucifer’s voice was cold and smooth. “What hides inside this rotten heart of yours? What sick desires led you here, to your dead brother’s shop, in search of pills that kill people?”

Something red flickered in the shattered glass on the floor.

Chloe blinked. It must have been still the after-image of the sudden flash, blurring her vision. She rubbed her eyes, trying to get rid of it. 

Ben Mitchell sobbed, in that pitifull, forlorn way of a man who lost everything but fear. The detective hadn’t ever heard anyone cry in such way until she met Lucifer.

“It is just a prototype,” he stuttered. “They gave me…”

“They?...” demanded Lucifer, quietly, but with an undertone of threat evident in his voice. 

Perhaps some car was passing the shop, the red lights somehow getting through the shutters, casting reflections inside the room. The detective turned to the windows as if searching for the slit between the shutters.

“The dealers. They gave me some of the first parts. As my share,” Ben hiccupped, swallowing the sobs, and yet tried to speak as quickly as possible. “But then it turned out that the first part was… failed. So I just kept it here.”

“Failed?...” 

Chloe felt the pressure drumming in her ears. The air in the room got stiff and warm as if the temperature rose a few degrees. 

“Toxic,” whispered Ben Mitchell. “Deadly,” he added after a while, reluctantly, as if struggling with himself. “I didn’t want to sell it. But I had to. All my money went for bail. I needed cash. I took just a few pills,” he took a few deep breaths and concluded with a painful gasp: “I sold them.”

The shattered glass on the floor rattled. Chloe found it difficult to breath as if the level of the oxygen fell down. Or was it too warm? Something screeched again, a few more sparks danced around the damaged installation. The air was so full of electricity that Chloe’s hair started to rise.

“That’s enough,” she forced herself to speak, her throat as dry as Ben’s. “He said it. He confessed. We are done here. Let’s take him to the precinct.” And please, let’s finally get out of this darkness.

“But Ben still needs to tell us, why he returned here tonight,” replied Lucifer. “Why, Benny? Why did you desire…more?...”

He made a few steps toward Ben, the glass crunching under his feet. The detective swallowed to ease the pressure in her ears and tried not to listen to the remains of glass rattling on the floor, even if there was no slightest draft of wind to shift them.

“The police was going to check the shop again tomorrow. I feared they would find it. I wanted to take it and sell it,” replied Ben numbly. “They are worth a few grands.”

For a second, everything in the room stood still, the tidbits of glass hung in the air, just millimetres over the surface.

“Greed,” sighed Lucifer with some final undertone in his voice. “It is my least favourite of the Seven.” 

For a moment, inexplicable tension in a room eased a bit, the shards falling down with a quiet rustle. Chloe understood, that this hearing was over.

“Can we finish it now?” she asked, bridling internally because it sounded almost beggingly. “We need to take him to the precinct.”

“You already took him… to the precinct… once,” reminded Lucifer. His voice shivered with hardly contained anger. “This time… I am going first to make sure that… that he won’t hurt anyone else.” 

The hearing was over, but Lucifer wasn’t done with Ben. He established his guilt and now it was time for a punishment. The sparks danced once again around the installation and over the remains of the explosives on the floor, filling the room with a specific, sharp smell. 

“No, you won’t!” Chloe reached for his hand to stop him, but her fingers slipped over his arm when he made a few steps toward Mitchell. He probably didn’t even notice her attempt, focused on the man cowering under the wall. 

Chloe felt panic clutching her throat, heart thudding in her chest as if she had run a few miles. That was what she always feared - that one day she won’t be able to stop him, that her presence and her plea finally wouldn’t be enough and the meagre control she had over him would turn out to be no more than the illusion, given her on his whim and so easily retrieved.

“Don’t do it,” she said, not hiding the pleading tone in her voice.

“Detective, you will need to make an arrest. Why don’t you call for a squad car?” Lucifer said and for a second the detective felt a wave of relief that he sounded so reasonably until she recalled that her phone was in the small backroom. He was simply giving her a pretext to leave the scene. 

Something in her wanted to do just that. Leave to the backroom and wait there, pressing the hands over her ears. Ben Mitchell was a bad man, an unscrupulous, greedy scoundrel. He deserved it. 

“You are a chemist, Ben. You knew it would kill them,” spoke Lucifer, his voice changed like on that recording from the warehouse, where he told the dealers their worst nightmares. “You understood the consequences, acting in the full knowledge and of your free will. I rarely meet the man who so… univocally deserves punishment.”

Ben Mitchell crouched even lower. “I am sorry, I am so sorry.”

Lucifer laughed.

Chloe flinched, hearing this bitter, mocking laughter of someone who knew all and saw all except mercy and compassion. 

The glass on the floor reflected red once more and Chloe suddenly founding herself again in this locked factory, with Lindsay cowering and sobbing on the floor and some unnamed, inexplicable terror reflected in the glass… No. This couldn’t have been happening again. She explained it. She forgot about it. She didn’t want to return there. 

She turned her head aside, each fibre in her body urging her to run, to leave. She could leave, wait outside, or in a backroom, let him deal with this despicable man and then act as if nothing happened. That would be the wisest thing to do, Lucifer didn’t seem inclined to listen to her anyway.

After all, who was she to stand up to the devil?

And if she stayed, she would have to see it, see him – and her whole world would crumble.

However, Ben Mitchell, the bad, greedy man, was crying and sobbing and begging for mercy and she was the only one who could help him.

_Mercy and compassion._

Lucifer made a few unhurried, but steady steps in Mitchell’s direction and Chloe with sudden desperation moved between them. Lowering her head, closing her eyes, so that she wouldn’t see Lucifer’s face, she tried to stop him, holding onto his chest.

“Don’t do it,” she repeated. “Please.”

Lucifer froze, taken by the surprise.

Chloe, not opening her eyes, slowly touched his arms and pressed the cheek to his jacket, listening to his heartbeat. For a moment he just stood, motionless and tense, and then she felt his fingers wrapping around her shoulders, like in this dream she had a few days ago, but this time there was no warm, white light around them, only darkness and the unknown nightmare that was threatening her in the dream was just happening.

“Don’t,” she said once again, pressing. “He deserves it, but there is still mercy.”

His touch over her shoulder strengthened and for a moment she feared he would shovel her aside. Instead, he turned her around and slightly pushed her toward Mitchell.

“All yours,” he said only, leaving the room.

* * *

Once Lucifer left, the detective would very much like to give in to the small breakdown, or leave the shop as well and never come back, but she couldn’t. She had to take care of Ben Mitchell, half-conscious from fear, and call for the squad car because she was not going to drive him to the precinct in her car alone. And she had to secure the pills to be taken to the laboratory.

It took a good hour and when everything was finally done, she felt deadly tired. She stumbled a few times, walking to her car and only in the last moment did she notice Lucifer waiting there, keeping eye on everything from the distance.

Chloe stopped in front of him, finally looking straight at him. She had to raise the head to look at his face. He was half-hidden in the shadows, but still, she saw how handsome he was. And how very angry.

“Why did you speak about mercy?” he demanded.

The detective obliviously shrugged her shoulders. She had no idea, why. It wasn’t even the word from her dictionary, she hardly ever used it. Instead of dwelling on it, she realized that it had been no more than twenty-four hours since they had been quarrelling in the night club when she had to ask Lucifer to let Frank Bowels go. And then there was this clash with Dan. And now this.

Oh, how tired she felt.

“I cannot… keep it like that,” she said helplessly, feeling the tears stinging in her eyes. “It is not going to work.”

Lucifer for a moment measured her with an angry glance and finally shook his head. “No, it is certainly not going to work, if you are going to close your eyes,” he snorted and turned back, going away, disappearing into darkness in a few seconds. 


	13. The Heartbreak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for the delay. This chapter simply didn't want to be written...

_Chloe parked in front of the LUX, just near the usual queue of the elegant, beautiful people waiting to be let inside. She felt out of place in her boring car and causal clothes but didn’t want to lose time parking at the back entrance. The valet knew her by sight and reaching for the keys smiled to her encouragingly:_

_“Just hurry.”_

_The detective nodded with gratitude, appreciating words of support. Now, when she finally arrived at the club, she was so nervous that she barely could breathe. With her hand on the doorknob, she hesitated. Why exactly was she so worried? After all, she knew that Lucifer would be happy at her sight. He was waiting for her, to reconcile._

_Wait. Why was she keeping the doorknob? The doors to the LUX had no handles, besides they were usually opened, with bouncers guarding the entrance._

_Chloe looked around. There were no one around. No bouncers, no queue, no valet. No Los Angeles. Just her and this door and she had no idea what was behind them._

_Slowly, she pushed the door, revealing the vast, rocky labyrinth, covered with greyish ash._

_“Oh, no, not again,” she whispered and tried to lock the door, but it disappeared in the meantime and she found herself standing in the middle of the unfriendly countryside. She had no choice but slowly walk down the narrow path, meandering between the rocky walls._

_It was terribly quiet. When she was here with Maze, the place was filled with moans and cries of the victims and shouts of their torturers. Now there was nothing but silence, in which she heard only her own steps._

_Somehow, this silence was even worse than the previous sounds of torments._

_“Hello?...” she called, feeling like the last idiot, but no one replied. “Is anybody there?”_

_She wasn’t scared. Her instincts didn’t warn her against any danger, any unnamed enemy lurking behind the corner. All she felt was sadness and loss._

_Having noticed the wooden door in the wall, she opened them with hope for something – anything, but there was nothing behind it, only darkness. She walked further, randomly choosing path bends, the ash falling on her blouse and jacket, the colours of her clothes fading into greys, like the stone walls around her._

_She ran for a while and tried a few other doors, but there was only darkness behind them and all paths looked the same. She didn’t encounter anyone._

_Hell was empty._

“And what was that supposed to mean?” the detective said accusingly to her reflection in the mirror when she woke up. “Hell does not exist.”

“Hell does not exist,” she repeated again, louder. 

* * *

"Hi. I heard that you caught the guy yesterday?” asked Dan. He stopped for a moment by her desk and cast a quick, unsure glance toward the empty chair near it.

“Lucifer didn’t come today,” Chloe replied at the unspoken question and for a moment her heart clenched when she saw how Dan visibly relaxed. He would never admit it, but a brush with Lucifer yesterday put him off balance. And it was no more than a short conversation, during which her partner was very moderate in using his abilities. “And yes, we caught the guy. I am pretty positive that this drug won’t reappear.”

“So, you closed the case. Congratulations,” Dan smiled sincerely. “Mine’s not going that well.” 

Chloe eyed him cautiously. She heard there was some problem with Benitez, but didn’t know the details. “What’s happening?” she asked, lowering her voice.

Dan looked around and whispered back: “Benitez disappeared. I couldn’t have reached him for a few days.”

“Perhaps he is simply keeping a low profile,” consoled him Chloe, but they both knew that it was very likely that Benitez got caught, killed and the whole operation turned into the fiasco. “If you need my help… I have no open case now. Just a few reports, but they can wait.”

“Maybe later I will show you the files… perhaps you would notice something I missed,” nodded Dan. “Anyway, thank you.”

The air between them evidently improved. Dan usually was nicer after getting a kick from life into his ego. Besides, Lucifer’s absence also helped. Chloe thought she could address now the issue that concerned her yesterday and openly ask him about his plans concerning Trixie. 

However, when she started to speak, she realized that there is another, entirely different question weighing on her mind.

“Dan… I have been thinking about something. We…” she started slowly, hesitated and blurt out: “We had a church wedding.”

Dan stared at her, blinking. “Yeah?...”

“Does it… does it mean something?”

“I don’t get it. What are you asking about?”

Chloe sighed. They were married in the church, due to the joint pressure of both her mother and Dan’s parents who wished to see their children having a dream wedding. Chloe neither liked it, nor needed it, but in that time she still had too much of an actress in herself, an actress wanting to give a good show and satisfy everyone. So, she put on the white wedding dress and went down the aisle in the church full of flowers. The only concession to her worldview was keeping her oath secular.

“You know, the Catholic church is quite clear about the divorces. There are none. How… how are you dealing with this?”

“Since when do you care?” Dan chuckled unpleasantly, immediately ruffled. “I do not know, that’s the last of my concerns at the moment. I do not plan on remarrying at the moment, thank you very much. Once was enough.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “I thought you would be more helpful. After all, you were visiting the church? Reading the Bible? At least as a kid, right?”

“My parents are religious,” Dan shrugged his shoulders. “What’s going on, Chloe, are you going through some… crisis of values? Are you having some second thoughts concerning the divorce?” Though he was speaking angrily, at the last world his voice broke for a moment.

“No,” replied quickly Chloe, feeling guilty at the hurt expression on his face. “I just mean… well, at that time I thought this whole wedding was no more than a kind of show… but what if it is not? What if all this is real? I mean… God?... Heaven, Hell, so on? What if this wedding meant something? Like… you know, ‘whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven’?”

Dan looked at her for a moment and started to laugh. “These are metaphors, they shouldn’t be taken literally,” he replied and, to mask uncertainty in his voice, added ironically: “What, are you scared that you would get stuck with me for the whole eternity? Now, that is not a very attractive prospect of Heaven, is it?”

Now, when he said it, it sounded so stupid. Chloe grimaced, slightly ashamed. “Yeah,” she smirked, all lost in thoughts. Stupid and funny. What sort of Heaven would that be? The eternity with Dan sounded so… dull. Even in his best moments, Dan was dull, she had to admit it now, when she got to know… someone… who was so much… not dull. “Not very much. In such case, I would rather see how Hell looks like.”

A moment of cold silence on Dan’s side realized her how her words must have sounded for him. 

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean it like that!” she called quickly. “I was just… wondering, Dan. That perhaps this all exists. Afterlife. And that there are… consequences to what we do…”

“Well thank you,” hissed Dan, not listening to her clumsy excuses. “You start the weirdest conversation, dwell on the matters you never concerned yourself about… and all this is just a new way of telling me how much you despise of me? That was a low blow, Chloe.”

“Dan, that’s not what I meant,” Chloe repeated, standing up. “I am sorry. You misunderstood.” 

“I don’t think so. I need to go,” Dan turned on the spot to leave, but after few steps looked back at him: “Find yourself some priest to talk about it. Oh, and keep your help for yourself and your new boyfriend. Somehow our marriage oath didn’t stop you from jumping to bed with him even before we signed the papers.” 

“I didn’t…” started Chloe but gave up, because Dan was already away, disappearing in the conference room. Besides, people were already staring at them. Now, that came out great.

For a moment, she regretted having coming to work so early today. After spending the two previous nights at the stakeout, she could have come later, or even take a day off, to order her distorted sleeping patters, just like Lucifer must have done. That was the most probable reason for his absence, he was simply sleeping it all off. Right?

And since she was already at work, she could use this time to make up her paperwork, prepare reports and yes, talk to Dan, to clear the air between them. Not antagonize him even more. Why did she even start this conversation?

 _The afterlife does not exist,_ she thought, opening her computer. _There is nothing beyond this world, and if there are some… phenomenons that cannot be explained at the moment, they certainly would be in future._

She saw enough Discovery programmes with Trixie to know, that even if something was not explicable at the moment, it… it didn’t prove anything. Sad as it sounded, death was the end of existence.

Death. 

Chloe froze, with her hands over the keyboard. 

She killed a man once, a few years ago. There was a shooting, she - yet not a detective – and other police officers against a gang. A few criminals got shot, one of them died in the hospital. Only from the reports did she learn that it was her bullet that hit the mortal shot. She felt very strange about it, but the whole situation was as impersonal, as it only could be. She didn’t even see this man’s face.

But how much it went against the fifth commandment? It certainly wasn’t self-defence, but was she acting with the conscious intent? Would it matter?

She opened Google to search for some information but then hesitated. Google didn’t seem to be an adequate source of that kind of knowledge. Perhaps she should indeed read a few books, maybe talk with someone wiser, like Dan suggested, reevaluate her worldview…

_Oh, just pull yourself together, Decker._

That was enough. That was the last moment to stop before she would become some haunted lunatic, questioning everything and everyone. Existential crises simply weren’t her forte. 

She always stood firm, both feet on the ground, resilient to doubt and speculations. That’s why she was good at her work. That was exactly what Palmetto was about. She was doing her job, not listening to… opinions. 

Luckily, with all that was crumbling around her, she still had some job to do. 

Chloe slammed her notebook on the desk, opened the folders and started to fill in the files. Pushing everything else aside, she concentrated on work, as the lives of half of the Los Angeles population depended on her finishing these – not so urgent – reports.

* * *

_If Lucifer only came now, just like that,_ thought the detective during the short lunch break, chewing some sandwich from the vending machine. 

After all, he was always unpredictable, switching between moods like between TV channels. Why couldn’t he make her life a little easier? Just forget about yesterday and simply come to work, laugh and banter with everyone as usual? 

And she could forget about yesterday as well.

 _He won’t,_ she admitted gloomily. _Not today, not tomorrow. If I won’t speak to him, he may not come at all._

For a moment, she felt tempted to leave it like that. After all, it was obvious from the beginning, that one day Lucifer would disappear from her life. The only question was, how much ashes he would leave in the process. At this stage, she would probably be still rather unscattered by his departure. Perhaps this would be for the best.

And then she reminded this moment from the last evening when she stood holding onto him, listening to his heartbeat and everything in her screamed that she must talk with him as soon as possible – and, just like the valet in her dream told her, she should hurry.

* * *

After work she left Trixie in her friend’s house – another occasion to spend an evening together lost – and as soon as possible drove to the LUX. It was still early and the club was closed, but still, after her dream, she was reluctant to park in front, choosing the back entrance instead, where she barely found a place between the delivery cars. The suppliers were unloading boxes, supervised by Maze who ordered them around, pointing the directions with something long and narrow in her hand.

Chloe left the car and intended to pass by the commotion heading for the entrance, but, to her surprise, when Maze immediately left the suppliers and approached her.

“Decker? Good,” she called. The object in her had was, indeed, the riding crop. “It is about time. Lucifer is in the club.”

“Thanks,” replied the detective, thrown off balance by this unexpected openness. “Yes, I need to talk with Lucifer.”

“Great. And tell him to finally move his ass from the piano. The club must be supplied and cleaned before the evening and no one can do anything while he is playing.”

The detective narrowed suspiciously her eyes. “I guess there is a reason why you didn’t do it yourself.”

Maze snorted with laughter and for a moment looked almost friendly, before her face closed in her usual scowl. “You could be fun, Decker,” she said. “But I hope you came to say goodbye.”

Goodbye? The detective realized, that Maze’s unexpected friendliness was a kind of politeness shown to the unwelcome guest who is finally leaving. A sting of irritation made her turn on the spot and headed for the entrance. However, she stopped after no more than two steps. 

“There is something I would like to talk with you about, Maze,” she said. 

“Talk with Lucifer,” the barmaid stated obliviously. “He is better at talking.”

Chloe smirked. He certainly was. “Maze, I…” the detective hesitated and blurted out: “You said once that you showed me Hell. What did it mean?”

Maze shrugged her shoulders. “Dreams. I wanted to scare you.”

“But… that’s not possible. You cannot… make my dreams. And Hell does not exist.”

The dark-haired woman looked at her for a moment with an impassive face. “And you want to inform me about it, because?...”

Chloe bit her lips and for a moment looked aside. Oh, well, she could speak with Maze. The barmaid didn’t like her anyway. And she was already crazy. “I am seeing it again in my dreams. You know, this… stone walls, a labyrinth of paths…”

“Ash falling from the sky and the doors leading to the cells, right. That’s Hell,” nodded Maze, unmoved. “But I have nothing to do with your present dreams. It is all happening in your head.” She looked at Chloe, smirked and leaned toward her. “You know it doesn’t have to be your problem, right?...”

“What do you mean?” asked absently Chloe, trying to separate what he saw in her dreams from what Maze told her. The barmaid couldn’t have seen her dreams. It was a pure coincidence. Or, perhaps, she was suggestive and Maze somehow manipulated her…

“You do not have to concern yourself with Hell,” continued Maze. “You will never end there, you are full of light like a little Christmas angel,” the barmaid snorted scornfully. “All this doesn’t have to be your problem, Decker. You can leave us alone, right now.” She stepped even closer into Chloe’s personal space and looked her straight in the eye and concluded: “Forget us.” 

Chloe stood still for a moment. To her surprise, she felt neither offended nor threatened by Maze. On the contrary, she found something incredibly sad in this strive for isolation. “Don’t you feel lonely?” she asked without thinking. “Just you two and this club?”

The barmaid laughed, tilting her head back. “Lonely? We are not some pitiful human wimps. And believe me,” she winked suggestively, “none of us is lonely in the LUX.”

Chloe could imagine what she meant, but it didn’t mislead her. “Don’t you need something more?”

Maze remained silent for a long while, playing with the hilt of the riding crop. Her challenging smile was gone and she looked at Chloe with utmost seriousness when she replied: “More would be dangerous.”

And then she was gone, yelling at the suppliers as of nothing happened.

Chloe slowly entered the building, passing by the boxes of wares, with each step more anxious about the conversation she was going to have. What made Maze think that she came to say goodbye? After all, she and Lucifer didn’t actually even quarrel. What happened yesterday, was no more than a misunderstanding to be cleared. Didn’t Lucifer treat it in the same way? She said something harsh, but she was tired. She might have overreacted, but…

 _I was terrified, and he saw it,_ she thought with regret, walking toward the main room of the club. The corridors in the back of the LUX were as clean and shiny as the official rooms of the club. Chloe fleetingly wondered that

Lucifer didn’t tolerate any blemish in his surroundings. On the other hand, he was perfectly able to see and reveal any imperfections in people’s souls. 

That two features put together made up for the very demanding partner.

* * *

No matter what Maze said, the detective would never interrupt Lucifer while he was playing the piano. She leant over the empty bar and for a moment just listened to him. 

_The man who plays like this couldn’t hurt anyone,_ thought hazily Chloe, once again prone to believe, that yesterday’s evening was no more than a streak of misunderstandings. She could remain like this for hours, floating with the soft melody, forgetting all the violence and ugliness of the world. However, all too soon the music faded, as if Lucifer felt her presence, even if he couldn’t see her from his seat.

“Detective,” he welcomed her, slowly turning toward her. Their eyes met and for a moment Chloe wondered, how long exactly hadn’t he been sleeping. 

Then, however, he stood up with his usual liveliness and a cocky smile. “I didn’t expect you so soon, Detective. Did we get a new case? Did something happen in the current investigation that requires my presence? Or did you just came to discuss what exactly is not going to work in our cooperation?”

So, he didn’t switch the mood since yesterday. He didn’t forget. And he was not going to make it easy. 

“We need to talk,” sighed the detective.

“Ah. The third option,” observed causally Lucifer, inviting her to the elevator. 

* * *

Once they were in his apartment, Lucifer immediately headed for his bar, raising the bottle of whiskey and tumbler toward Chloe with a silent question. When she shook his head in refusal, he weighed for a moment a glass in one hand and the bottle in another, as if he was wondering whether drinking straight from the bottle wouldn’t be a simpler option. Finally, he poured the generous dose to his tumbler and turned to the detective.

“Let’s get over with this,” he said shortly, draining the content of the glass in one draft.

The detective for a while couldn’t find suitable words, distraught by the contrast between gentle music he played a few moments ago and the destructive vibes that surrounded him now put her.

“You are angry at me,” she started slowly.

“I am not,” came the immediate answer.

And the tumbler got refilled.

The detective walked through the room to the window and back, trying to gather her thoughts. Lucifer remained standing by his piano, keeping a drink in one hand and running the other down the lid of the instrument as if considering to open it and play again.

“Okey,” sighed Chloe. “I am angry at you.”

“Good!” exclaimed approvingly Lucifer. “You are recognizing your emotions. That’s progress. At least that’s what my therapist says, and she should know. I am not sure I reached this stage yet. So fat, I am still getting used to the fact, that emotions…”

“Stop it,” snapped Chloe. “Please. Just… concentrate on me for a moment.”

“Be careful what you wish for, Detective,” muttered Lucifer ironically, but then silenced and looked at her expectantly.

Chloe stood in front of him, took a deep breath and started speaking. “Lucifer. I am sorry if I sounded… too emotional yesterday, but it was a heavy day and you… you weren’t exactly easy to deal with.” The tone of her voice was a bit too official, but she had to reign her emotions to keep the conversation reasonable. “I need to know that I can rely on you. I know that you… you may have a different approach to some issues, but if you want to work with me… I mean with the LAPD, you need to… adjust to some rules.”

“Bloody Hell, Detective, can’t you see how much I am trying?” called Lucifer with exasperation. He set the empty tumbler on the counter with a loud crash. 

The glass cracked spectacularly, indicating that the reasonable part of the conversation was over.

“Well, yes, I might have had some problems with noticing it yesterday,” the detective retorted accusingly. “Like when I was gathering Ben Mitchell from the floor.” 

“Yesterday?” Lucifer only shrugged his shoulders. “I relented to you, respecting your… sense of comfort.”

“My what?...” gasped Chloe, losing the rest of her composure, because the last night she was as far from comfort as it is only possible. “And if I left the room, he would have been at the ER now, wouldn’t he? Don’t you really see anything… wrong in your behaviour?” 

“Wrong?...” Lucifel almost hissed, crooking his head in this specific manner of his. “There is nothing wrong in punishing the evil, Detective, on the contrary, it is very, very right and worth the effort! And yet I let this wretched scoundrel go, just to please you!” Lucifer leant over Chloe, his eyed blazing with such emotions, that she couldn’t help making a step back. Her reaction cooled him down and he also stepped back, rasing his hands in appeasing gesture. When he continued to speak, he evidently struggled to keep his voice calmer. “Detective, I have seen so many rules and laws created, broken and forgotten, and I know that there is only one that counts in the universal dimension: that wrongdoing should be punished. Everything else are just your humans' fleeting whims… However, I was ready to…”

Now that was too much. The detective realized that Lucifer saw the things from the different point of view, but the fact that he somehow perceived himself as the one with the monopoly of truth and righteous judgment and her – whimsical and irrational – crossed all limits.

“Whims?” she interrupted him with a snort. “You dare to speak about whims? You?... You are the most unpredictable, unreliable and chaotic man I have ever met!”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, yes and no,” he mocked her count of insults. “I am not a man.”

“Right, you are the devil,” Chloe intended to retort ironically, but somehow the sarcasm got strangled in her throat. “And you are above all the rules and all the laws,” she tried again, this time with a better result. 

Still, Lucifer ignored her taunt, only shrugged slightly as if she said something obvious. “Don’t you really notice how I am trying to adjust to your… requirements?” he said instead. “How I am waiting for your permission to use my more… unusual abilities? Did I ever not stop when you asked me? Bloody Hell, Detective, I even released these dealers who hurt you,” he pointed toward the fading scar on Chloe’s cheek. 

“You didn’t release them,” reminded the detective. “They are in jail.”

Lucifer laughed. “In jail. So scary. Do you want to know, what I would do with them?”

“No,” replied quickly Chloe.

For a moment they stood in uncomfortable silence, all the told and untold words ringing in the air. Then Lucifer walked to his bar again and reached for a new tumbler, the glass clinking quietly when he poured himself a drink. Chloe suddenly felt the wave of weariness and sat on the sofa. She hid her face in the hands and rubbing her forehead. 

_That’s not going to end well,_ she thought, not angry anymore, but resigned.

“I do not like how you phrase it, Lucifer,” she said finally, once more trying to speak reasonably. “As if it was about all about me. And it is not,” she stressed. “You started to help the LAPD because you like solving the cases. Without me, you would be working without someone else, right? And you would have to follow some rules as well.”

Lucifer didn’t reply at once. He raised the tumbler, swirling its content, then put it aside on the piano and run his fingers over its surface, as if sweeping some invisible dust.

“I am not sure,” he admitted finally. His voice was devoided of the previous passion and the sting of concern forced Chloe to stood up and near to him. 

“You should rest,” she said, taking in the shadows around his eyes. “When did you last sleep?” Her hand raised involuntarily to his cheek, but before she managed to touch him, he raised his palm, stopping her. 

“Detective,” he asked quietly. “Why didn’t you speak yesterday about the rules and laws?... Why about mercy?...” He looked her in the eye almost beggingly, for a moment looking so tired and tormented, that Chloe had to swallow back tears, that were threatening to spill.

“I don’t know,” she replied, feeling as lost, as he looked like. “Does it mean something?”

How strange, it was the same question she asked Dan a few hours ago… Did some forces, that she had no idea about, that she chose to ignore, had an influence on her life? Lucifer was still looking at her, with some silent despair in his sight, and his eyes were dark, so dark… If she let herself to be drawn into this darkness, what would become from her life? What kind of changes would she have to face?

And then Lucifer jerked, breaking their connection and shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know,” he replied harshly, his face again expressing nothing but the usual nonchalance. 

Touching him didn’t sound like a good idea anymore and Chloe slowly retreated to the sofa. After a while, Lucifer followed her and sat on the armchair, leaning himself on the backrest, with his legs crossed, his pose oozing confidence as if he wanted to mask and forget these few seconds of vulnerability that just passed between them.

“Well, Detective, once we are done with shouting as well as with the moment of weakness,” he smirked sarcastically, “I guess it is time to near to the conclusion of our little discussion.”

He raised his tumbler toward her, as if in a toast, and Chloe for a moment closed her eyes. No, it was not going to end well. 

“We could end this conversation here, Detective. Return to our status quo. I would try to play by your rules, really. And you would try not to notice anything that would trouble you too much.”

Ah, how biting it sounded. Chloe forced herself not to flinch and keep his sight. “But we are not going to do this?” she asked almost challengingly. 

To her surprise, Lucifer avoided the direct answer. “I cannot help but notice, that my company is slowly becoming too uncomfortable for you. And, as you pointed out so wisely, there are consequences to everything. If we were to continue our… partnership, there certainly would be some consequences to face. We cannot ignore it. You need to make your choice… consciously,” he sighed and concluded, looking at her with regret. “You cannot close your eyes.”

Recollections of the last evening brought the wave of shame, fear and anger. Chloe decided She decided to act on the last one. 

“You are making it all about me again and it is more about you,” she said accusingly. “You thought you will get to have everything your way. Learn something new, get some thrill… Suddenly it turns out it does not leave you unaffected. You make things you did not intend, driven by feelings you did not expect. And it is something unacceptable, right? You simply got scared of… of the change in your life. Of the change in you.”

To her surprise, Lucifer didn’t get angry or offended with her speech. On the contrary, his eyes gleamed with satisfaction, as if the conversation took the direction he desired.

“Very well, Detective. Let’s make a deal. I will risk the change if you risk the truth.”

Oh. So that’s how he cornered her. For a moment Chloe remained silent and motionless, with sinking feeling realizing she would need to give him a direct answer. 

So, she could… keep him. He already supported her in a way no one did before, and he would remain by her side. Their relation would develop and Chloe couldn’t deny that it was something she very much… desired. And he declared he was ready to change, so if she pointed out the most… unacceptable traits in his life and personality – strange, that she thought first about the crowds in his bedroom and only then about sending the suspects to the in the asylum - he was ready to work on it.

But, to have it all, she would have to learn, what exactly did she saw reflected in the glass in the closed factory, on that day when she shot him. And she would have to let fall apart this web of lies and illusions she built around her in the last weeks - because she was the one hiding behind the illusions, not he.

 _I cannot,_ she thought, feeling her heart broke. 

“I see your decision on your face, Detective,” observed Lucifer almost causally. “But I need you to say it.”

He sounded so oblivious, but Chloe knew better. From the way he looked at her, from the way he sat, tensed and straightened, clenching his grasp on the armrests… He also wanted to keep her. 

_I cannot,_ she thought again, cursing herself for being such a coward, but… but it was not only about him. Accepting him meant that… well, that he would provide her with proofs, hard, undeniable evidence she couldn’t ignore, that the world around her was much more than she believed it to be. It would inadvertently change her reality, open the whole new dimensions she had only a very vague idea about.

She wouldn’t be able to cope with it.

“I cannot,” she said aloud. 

“Very well,” Lucifer commented with a nod, not moving from his armchair, not looking at her.

There was nothing left to say and Chloe stood up, turning to leave. The sense of calamity overwhelmed her when she was walking toward the elevator, each step required extreme effort, as if she was struggling against herself. Hazy pictures form her dreams flashed in her mind, recollections of ash and rocks, light and darkness, and everything in her was screaming that she is doing something wrong, wrong, wrong…  
Lucifer caught up with her moments before she reached the elevator. 

“Chloe,” he said fervently, his oblivious façade broken, “ if you stayed I wouldn’t anyone let hurt you.”

The detective frowned. If he said ‘I wouldn’t hurt you’, she might have found it somehow reassuring. However, his choice of words only confirmed, what she feared most - that his life was like the Pandora chest, filled with unknown menaces.

Perhaps if she was alone, she would risk it. She wanted to risk it. However, she had a daughter to think about. She couldn't drag her into it.

“But that’s not enough, right?...” asked Lucifer, seeing her face. 

“No, that’s too much,” replied quietly Chloe.

Lucifer slowly nodded, acknowledging her decision. “That’s so right, Detective” he commented, his voice tinted with sarcasm. He stepped back, letting her go, and then turned abruptly, heading for her balcony, quickly putting distance between them. 

“Leave already,” he called only, with his back toward her, not with sarcasm anymore, but with the strangled wraith in his voice and he detective hectically pushed the button of the elevator, letting the breath out only when the door closed, separating her from his apartment.

All in all, that wasn’t a good farewell. 

* * *

Chloe was never the one to show emotions, even if her mother encouraged her to be more open. ‘Show that you have feelings, that you care,’ she used to say, preparing her to the endless auditions. ‘Nothing will serve you better to have it your way than a tear or two on this pretty face,’ advised Penelope, when some arrangements required settling. 

But Chloe couldn’t pretend to be a soft and emotional one. She never cried in front of people. If she was hurt, she only pressed her lips, closing her face for painful emotions. As a child, she was praised for being so brave, as a schoolgirl – she was called ‘proud’ already with slight reproach, that became more visible when she became her acting career. ‘Arrogant. Stuck–up’. Finally, ‘cold’. That what her fellow officers started to call her at the precinct, when she refused to get ashamed at the countless jokes concerning her movie, or when she never cried at the crime scenes, even if everyone expected from the former actress some kind of breakdown. ‘Cold bitch’, after Palmetto.

So, cold as she was, she didn’t cry leaving the LUX. 

She only pressed her lips, and raised her chin, and – somewhere inside feeling like a little girl, trying not to cry because of the skinned knee – walked through the club, whether the stuff was hastily bustling around, just like Maze wanted. Perhaps Maze was there too, but she didn’t look in her direction. She couldn’t bear her gloating. 

Chloe didn’t also cry on her way home, because she needed to keep attention while driving. And she didn’t cry at home, because it would worry Trixie. She spent some time with her daughter. She checked her homework, made her supper, watched some cartoons with her and finally – tucked her in bad and read a few stories. Even if she felt numb, she could still play the role of a good mother.

Only later, when Trixie got asleep, Chloe went to the bathroom, opened the shower, and while the water was running, let the tears to run down.

She cried and cried, hoping that the water would wash away her regret and sense of loss. That she would cry once and then accept it, just another disappointment in her life. Indeed, once she finally was out of tears, she felt a bit calmer. Having washed her face with cold water, she went to bed, with a resolve to be strong and go on with her life, accepting what couldn’t be changed.

And then she cried some more.

* * *

The next days were surprisingly calm, even at work. Chloe didn’t get the new case, so she could concentrate on ordering the documentation from the last one. She spent some time in the prosecutor office and in the archives.

Lucifer must have settled things with Monroe, as she didn’t comment on his absence. Once or twice she mentioned assigning the new partner for Chloe. Generally, the attention of the precinct focused around Dan and Benitez, who still didn’t reappear. The situation was getting hectic, but Chloe remained outside of it, not being a member of Dan’s team.

Dan didn’t talk with her after their last argument, except for the matters directly concerning Trixie.

At some point, Chloe enjoyed her peace. Her reason told her, she made the right decision. He lost the excitement but regained the feeling of security. Of course, she felt a bit lonely, but she was going to get over with it. She got over splitting her husband after many years of marriage, she would get over the man she had known since a few weeks. It would only require time. 

If she only could stop thinking about him. 

Perhaps it didn’t help that the gossip portal in Interned each day gushed about the new party in the LUX, which extravagance outshone all the previous scandals of Los Angeles. She didn’t read them, but the headlines were descriptive enough.

She couldn’t help noticing a few photos of Lucifer. He looked good. Very much in his element. Happy.

She wasn’t happy, but she was fine. Well, she would be fine. In a few days.

* * *

In a few days, when she entered the precinct and was halfway toward her desk, she suddenly noticed that something was wrong. There was an unusual commotion, people running around with worried faces, making phone calls, checking maps… Monroe was in the conference room, in the company of a few unknown men, looking important and troubled. It indicated some major incident. A shootout? A terrorist attempt? No, she would herd about it.

The detective slowed down realizing, that there was some strange tension… around her. People were avoiding her. Keeping the distance. She felt a few glances directed at her, but no one neared to her. _As if no one wanted to be the first one to speak with me,_ she realized.

Finally, she stopped standing in the middle of the opened space of the precinct and looked at Monroe, catching her sight through the glass panel. The lieutenant froze for a moment, the discomfort twisting her features. Then she turned to the men working with her and with one of them left the conference room, heading toward Chloe.

The detective stood motionlessly, as if her feet grew into the floor, her heartbeat escalating, blood rushing in her ears, her vision narrowed to Monroe and her companion nearing to her… She felt as of waiting for her own execution, some part of her back in this terrible moment when two officers came to their house informing about her father’s death because Monroe had the same, troubled and apologizing expression… 

She must have been wrong, it could not have been personal. She had no one else in the force to lose since she and Dan broke up. Of course, technically, Dan was still her husband, but it couldn’t be about him. He couldn’t have even got to work yet, this morning Trixie had a swimming competition and he went with her, to cheer for her, so he should have been with Trixie…

_Oh, no._


	14. Compound interest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers, in the last weeks my whole life was turned upside down because of the epidemic situation in Europe. Slowly, I am adapting to the new conditions, sincerely hoping that it won't become much worse.  
> Perhaps that's why this chapter is a bit longer than intended. I had to split it into two parts. So, the last chapter is still ahead of us.

_Trixie was missing._

_She wasn’t dead, she was simply missing. They would find her._

Chloe repeated this a few times, trying to separate facts from panic. She always feared that her daughter would be affected by the dire consequences of her parent’s job. Mostly, she was afraid that Trixie would be orphaned, either by her or by Dan, and would have to suffer the loss of a parent at a much too young age. This concern wasn’t diminishing with, on the contrary – Chloe with certain despair realized, that the older her daughter was, the more she needed them, both her and Dan. Her needs only changed from physical into more psychological ones, but it only opened the new dimensions of vulnerability, for all of them.

Sometimes, when the precinct was leading the investigation against crime syndicates, Chloe – and Dan – feared that Trixie’s life might be directly endangered. They knew, how the mob can operate. A few times they even sent Trixie away, to the grandparents, to wait in the safe distance until the most chaotic part of the investigation was over.

But what happened today was different. True, it appeared that Trixie fell an accidental victim of her father’s job risk. Still, Chloe had a sinking, gnawing feeling, that there was something more in it. A hunch, somewhere between panic and guilt, that the case was… personal. She struggled to control it. Fight the panic, stick to the facts.

* * *

Monroe and the man accompanying her, agent Carson, as she learnt, were very cautious around her. They took her to the Lieutenant’s office and pulled the blinds down before they started to explain her the situation. Probably they expected her to cry.

And yet, when she learnt what happened, Chloe didn’t cry. After the first shocked reaction, her brain in strange defensive mechanism started to join the facts, putting the pieces of information together, into the picture of consequences and coincidences that led them to this place.

“So it was this stunt,” she said a bit numbly, drawing the first conclusion. “Benitez was the stunt.”

“A stunt?” asked carefully agent Carson. “What do you mean?”

“My last case at some point concerned the narcotic gang,” explained the detective, feeling strangely detached when she was relating the facts. “During the investigation, one of the dealers testified there was some kind of aggressive competition between the two drug trafficking groups. The victim in my case was killed in retaliation for some earlier… stunt, as they called it. However, I didn’t manage to persuade them to tell, what it was. Probably my… partner would be able to learn the truth, but somehow he was absent during the interrogation because we were quarrelling about somethings that seemed to be important at the moment,” her voice stuttered a little when she added with a surprise: “Now I cannot recall what it was.”

Agent Carson and Monroe exchanged glances and the lieutenant retrieved from her drawer the blister with sedatives. Chloe only shook her head in refusal.

Agent Carson cleared his throat. “Usually the gangs do not try to involve the police into settling their scores. Gaspar Benitez, whom you thought to be… contrite…” the agent spat the last word sarcastically, looking at Monroe. The lieutenant pressed her lips into the thin line but replied nothing. “Well, Benitez was, in fact, bribed into the cooperation with the police by the competing gang. Information provided by him was to bring the whole gang down and leave the market in the hands of the competition. Probably this was referred to as ‘the stunt’.”

“And the competing gang was in the meantime working on the new product, called the Death’s Door,” nodded the detective. She was still struggling with this odd feeling of detachment, but at least she finally managed to look her interlocutors in the eyes. She hoped she looked reasonable enough so that they wouldn’t try to send her home or, worse, to the psychiatrist. “But the other gang learnt about Benitez betrayal and in retaliation killed Jeremy Mitchell, who was the unaware supplier of their competitors. They also left enough trails for us to get the whole trafficking circle down.”

“Now we got all pieces of the puzzle,” concluded Monroe.

“A bit too late, don’t you think?” snapped Carson. “The problem is, that the gang did not simply get rid of Benitez, only decided to use him as the double agent. You didn’t notice that for a few weeks Benitez at this point was blackmailed and manipulated, deliberately feeding you with misleading information.”

For a moment, they measured themselves with the angry glances, undoubtedly already measuring the weight of guilt and responsibility in the future reports. _They are expecting… casualties,_ thought Chloe. _They are already making damage control… to their carriers._

Some of her feelings must have appeared on her face because agent Carson turned to her with sympathetic expression: “Your husband, as Benitez leading contact, was under the observation of the gang. However, they wouldn’t expose themselves by hurting him. They were going to use Benitez as a double agent as long as possible. Only that…” Carson hesitated, cleared his throat once again, “something happened in the meantime. The intel information is unclear, but you know that a few members of their gang were… slaughtered… in the pub… I saw the pictures and…”

“I know, I was there,” Chloe cut him off.

“There is no reason to suspect, that it also was the part of these gangs competition,” observed Monroe. “We found no traces.”

Carson sent her a disapproving glance. “And yet there must have been some connection because it appears the other members of the gang… panicked… and things slipped out of control after that. They wanted to cut the loose ends by killing Benitez, but somehow he escaped… and the things didn’t go as expected...”

 _No, they certainly didn’t,_ bridled internally Chloe. _Because Dan was expected to be with Trixie at the swimming contest._

They never reached it.

It remained unclear, what exactly happened because the relations of Dan and the witnesses were incomplete. Somehow, instead of driving to the swimming pool, Dan met Benitez, still with Trixie in the car. There was a quarrel and the shooting, and her ex-husband got shot. When the LAPD found him, Trixie and Benitez were missing.

Chloe had a feeling, that Dan didn’t say anything, but he was immediately taken to the surgery, out of contact at the moment.

“We have mobilized all resources to find them,” said gently agent Carson, leaning toward her with a supportive smile. “Everything will be fine, Detective… Chloe. We would offer Benitez witness protection and get your daughter back. And your husband would get over it.”

For a moment, Chloe wanted to snap at this man, to tell him he is not allowed to use this fatherly tone toward her because her father was dead… and that Dan was no longer her husband… but she swallowed back her anger. He was only trying to be helpful and they were, indeed, doing everything possible to find her daughter.

“I will join the others,” she asked only, indicating with the slight nod outside Monroe’s office, where the precinct personnel was working on finding Benitez and her daughter. To Chloe’s relief, the lieutenant didn’t try to send her home.

“Yes, if you feel you are up to,” Monroe said only. “But Chloe,” she added after a moment, “I know that you need a support of your family in such moment, but do not contact anyone. The publicity could have tragic consequences. You cannot inform any outsiders, not even your mother.”

Chloe nodded in agreement, accepting Monroe’s argument... To tell the truth, her mother was the last person she would turn to seek support. It would only result in her being forced to console Penelope, not vice versa.

She only regretted she couldn’t call Lucifer. Unfortunately, now he was an outsider too.

* * *

 _Trixie is alive,_ reminded herself constantly Chloe. _Even gangsters do not kill children with cold blood. Benitez won’t kill her. He needs her, as leverage._

Witness protection was Benitez only chance now and the detective built her hope around it. She could imagine this man quarrelling with Dan, the argument slipping out of control, the shooting – oh, how scared Trixie must have been! Her poor little girl. But there were no traces indicating that she was hurt.

 _Trixie is alive,_ repeated Chloe, once again. _We would find her and take care of her. I would take her to the psychologist, we would make the therapy, she would be fine. We would fix it._

The detective almost smirked at the realization, how eager the brain of the parent adjusted, catching the smallest strain of hope. If someone had told her yesterday, that her daughter would get kidnapped, she would be terrified. When it happened, she focused on the aspects allowing her to have hope for the happy ending. She was not terrified, she was almost grateful. It could have been so much worse. So far, nothing irreversible happened.

Trixie was alive and they would find her.

Everyone at the precinct, the reinforcements including, were doing their best. They managed to identify the Benitez car and were methodically checking the recordings, one file after another, trying to render his route through the city.

The detective also noticed that many people tried to show her their support and for the first time since Palmetto she felt that she was a member of this small community. However, after a hug or short condolences, her colleagues kept their distance, as if she was wrapped in some invisible bubble of misery. That’s why she missed Lucifer. He wouldn’t, like the others, step aside, watching her with the mixture of compassion and anxiety. He would certainly say or do something inappropriate, something indicating, that he had no idea what she was going through – but he would stay close to her.

Anyway, Chloe thought she was doing well. She was keeping a clear mind, working, interacting with others, remaining strong and professional, to such extent, that some people started to send her suspicious glances. Probably they expected her to show some emotions. She didn’t care, her emotions wouldn’t help Trixie.

She needed to find her. Hug her, console her, make sure she was fine.

Only after that Chloe would allow herself to break down.

* * *

The first moment of weakness came when someone brought her a sandwich. At first, the detective got surprised that it was already lunchtime – her heart skipped for a moment when she saw how many hours passed.

And then she thought about Trixie, who must have been hungry too. Did this man give her some food? Water? Was she not too scared to eat? When would she finally be able to take care of her?

And, oh, would she ever see her again?...

Once the forbidden thought, the first moment of doubt, passed through her mind, the wave of fear washed over her, so strong that she wanted to fell on her knees and wail. Somehow, she pulled herself up but wasn’t able to rebuild the previous composure. She wasn’t a detective anymore, only a mother, who didn’t see her daughter since so many hours, whose little, so very little girl was kidnapped by the criminal, searched by half od the LA police… She needed someone to help her pull herself together. She moved the food aside – its very sight causing nausea – and went to Monroe.

“I’d like to call Lucifer and tell him what happened,” she said simply.

The lieutenant shook her head. “I am sorry, no. No outsiders. He resigned. Besides,” Monroe added: “he could not do anything that we aren’t already doing.”

Chloe took a few deep breaths, trying to think logically again. Monroe was right. Lucifer, with all his unusual abilities, never gave much input when they were searching for a someone or something. His investigative talents focused on people, not databases.

He wouldn’t help much in the search. Of course, he would comfort her and she needed that very much, but her comfort wasn’t the priority at the moment.

“Okey. I understand,” the detective nodded, accepting the refusal.

* * *

The second, much more serious breakdown came a few hours later, when Dan called her. At this stage, the stress and fatigue were slowly overtaking her. For the whole day she drank only a bit of water, and even these she forced into herself, the images of her daughter, hungry, thirsty and scared haunting her each time she tried to drink.

And then her mobile ringed and her ex-husband name appeared on the screen.

“Dan?” she asked surprised. “They let you call? How are you?”

“I begged one of the nurses to bring me my phone for a moment,” replied Dan. He sounded utterly broken. “Chloe, I am sorry.”

“That’s not your fault,” replied quickly Chloe. She could only imagine, that he was suffering much worse than she, lying helpless and hurt in the hospital. “That’s our job risk. We will find her,” she assured him with certainty she didn’t feel. “How do you feel?”

“I am fine. Chloe,” whispered Dan, “that’s my fault. That was not… accidental.”

“What do you mean?” The sinking feeling, the bad hunch overwhelmed her again and Chloe wavered on her feet, realizing that she was right suspecting that Dan didn’t manage to tell them everything before the surgery and that she as about to learn something bad.

“Do you know how the gang blackmailed Benitez? With the life of his daughter. Not a girl, the young women, but... They kept her captive and in the end…” Dan silenced suddenly. She heard him swallow a few times until he spoke again: “It seems they murdered her.”

Chloe felt as if the ground was slipping from under her feet at the implications.

“You mean that…”

“He blamed me, Chloe. I didn’t know about anything, but still, he blamed me somehow for this fiasco. For her death. That’s what he told me today.”

“Oh.” Chloe tried to fight off the wave of nausea. If Benitez lost it after the death of his daughter, he wouldn’t be interested in the witness protection. If Trixie was kidnapped out of revenge...

_Trixie is alive and we would find her._

“We will find her, Dan,” she assured him, her heart breaking and wailing over the misery of all of them.

“Chloe, there is more,” said Dan, brokenly. “He knew I had… Trixie… because I took her once… at our meeting.”

“What?”

“The first time, just as I was assigned to this case…” Dan sighed, as of speaking caused him pain, but continued quickly. “I was driving with Trixie for the check-up to the pediatrists, and just after that Benitez called… It was to be our first meeting, I didn’t want to appear unreliable, so I met him on the way to the doctor…”

“You took Trixie for a meeting with a gang informer?”

“She was waiting in the car,” replied Dan quickly and Chloe thought she had never heard anything more stupid. Dan must have realized how it sounded too and added after a moment: “But he noticed her. Later, he asked me about her a few times. I thought he was being friendly.”

 _He wasn’t friendly, he was thinking about his own daughter that was the hostage of the gang,_ thought numbly Chloe.

If Dan was here now, she would rip him into pieces.

“You should have asked me to go to this doctor. Or cancel the visit,” she said only.

“But you couldn’t. You had to stay with the forensics. Remember? It was when Mitchell’s body was found. You called me, and… we quarrelled earlier… and I wanted to prove that I…”

“That you are better than me both at work and at family,” Chloe finished for him.

Yes, she remembered that day when she and Lucifer drove to Jeremy’s shop for the first time, only to find his body. She and Dan quarrelled in that morning. He wanted to show her he was a better detective and better parent, and she wanted to prove that she was fine without him. And then Trixie’s doctor changed the hour of the appointment and she couldn’t make it on time, because they drove in Lucifer’s car, and there was no backseat in the Corvette, so she called Dan and he of course agreed… and then apparently he also agreed to meet Benitez… A sequence of coincidences and choices, petty and accidental – and yet consequential, because they were based on their anger, pride and jealousy.

Apparently, there were consequences to all of them.

 _Is it our fault that we lost her?_ She thought and the wave of guilt crashed over her. For a moment, she felt utterly helpless, everything inside her curling with misery.

_Guilt is unproductive._

“Why are you telling me this? This won’t help me find her,” she said sharply, not recognizing her own voice.

“Chloe, I…

“Just do not say that you are sorry. Do not say it.” Sorry was an empty word. She could be sorry to the end of her life, and that wouldn’t bring Trixie back.

“You would like to hear me saying that it is fine, that it is not your fault… but that’s not the point,” she said to Dan, ignoring his pained sigh. “If we get her back, everything would be fine. If we don’t… nothing would mend it.”

In a long moment of silence that followed her words, she was crumbling inside under the weight of regrets. Dan wasn’t the only one to blame, she should tell him that. She was also taking part in this nexus of choices, and the consequences were also her doing.

She should tell it Dan, and he would perhaps feel a bit better and that would perhaps make her feel just a little better too. But it wouldn’t help Trixie and they didn’t deserve to feel better, so Chloe refused to search for this small moment of common comfort.

“Just… find her,” whispered Dan finally.

“I will try,” she replied, ending the call. She probably should have said ‘I will’, but for the first time, she let the doubts falter her faith.

* * *

Chloe related the first part of the conversation with Dan to Monroe and Carson and she saw, how their faces darkened when they heard about Benitez’ daughter. They consulted it with the psychologists working on Benitez profile, but one did not need to be a psychologist to know that Trixie’s chances fell down rapidly.

They moved her to work on the street monitoring in a separate room. They said it was important and urgent, but Chloe knew, that they didn’t want her to hear that the others try to estimate the chances of her daughter being still alive.

That was when she thought about Lucifer again, but this time not seeking a friend, who could comfort her, but considering his cobweb of favours. Could it be used to save Trixie? When Lucifer spoke about his deals, he made it sound so innocent, as if it was no more than some kind of sophisticated social network agency. However, she knew his deals had also a shady side. Lucifer wasn’t shy to exchange favours with criminals, mafia and dealers including. Could any of his contacts be used to help her?

Chloe was certain, that no matter their sad, almost angry parting he would agree to help. After all, he didn’t hold the grudge, judging from the fact how easily he plunged into the vortex of parties in LUX. So, if she asked, he certainly would not refuse her.

Unless…

Lucifer always kept his word and never made the deals he couldn’t fulfil.

If she asked him for help and he would refuse, it would mean that he thought Trixie cannot be saved. That was a test Chloe didn’t dare to take.

 _Oh, but what I am thinking about?_ She rubbed her forehead, trying to fight off the wave of vertigo, caused by weariness, stress and hunger. _Half of the LA force is searching for my daughter, using all resources and techniques available, and I would keep the opinion of one man as the deciding one?_

But he said he was not a man, only a devil.

 _Could the devil bring my daughter back?_ Chloe smirked, for the first time since morning. If it only had been so simple, she would gladly sign any pact, sell her soul, anything…

 _I am losing it,_ she realized, gasping for air. _I am getting crazy. They would send me to the hospital and stuff me with sedatives, and I won’t be able to help Trixie…_

“Chloe?” Monroe peeked into the room and the detective jumped at the chair, looking at her superior with a scared, guilty expression. However, on Monroe’s face appeared a small smile. “We have found Benitez. We located his car and the building, in which he is hiding.”

* * *

It was an old museum, of all places. Massive, rather ugly building, in its best days must have discouraged potential visitors with the boring façade. No wonder, it went bankrupt. Now, in with blank windows and walls marred with some graffiti, barely visible in the darkness, it looked simply depressing.

Darkness? Chloe blinked in surprise, for the first time acknowledging the night sky. How late was it exactly? And how was it possible that she didn’t notice it on her way here from the precinct?

“Everything’s fine, Chloe?” asked Monroe quietly, and the detective nodded, forcing a small smile. They were staying together, watching how the police vehicles were taking positions around the building – keeping a certain distance, to remain unnoticed, but effectively closing the ring around it.

They didn’t want to take her here. Once the location of Benitez hiding had been established, they wanted to keep her away – to wait for the results of the rescue action at the precinct or at home. Or even at the hospital, with Dan. She refused it, just as she refused the psychological help. Finally, Monroe relented and let her come with the others.

However, by the first sign of emotional breakdown, she would be sent away, so she couldn’t show how she truly felt.

Lost. Oh, so lost.

Panicked.

Her usual composure was gone, each cell in her body filled with bad premonitions and fear.

 _But Trixie is somewhere in this building,_ Chloe repeated, trying to wake up some hope in herself. After the hours of searching, they finally found her, and now she was finally close to her daughter. _Trixie is alive,_ she tried again. _Trixie is so close and she is alive. I will get her back,_ she thought again, but somehow she felt no hope, only increasing panic.

Trixie was in this building, but she was in a company of the madman, a man who lost everything.

As if confirming her fears, agent Carson neared to her with a dreary expression. “Not good,” he shook his head. “The information about the shooting somehow leaked to the media. And about the kidnapping too. Half an hour or so, and all these vultures with the cameras would be here, waiting for us to screw it up.”

“Shit,” cursed silently Chloe. Her rancour toward the press and paparazzi, feeding on her personal tragedy, resurfaced, but what worried her more was Carson’s reaction. So far, Carson appeared fully professional and decisive, but now, facing the perspective of spotlights and microphones directed at him, he was losing his confidence.

“What is the strategy?” she asked sharply, the remains of her self-control worn out by the recent blow. “Once we are done with securing the building, are you going to contact Benitez?”

“Contact him,” replied Carson after a moment of silence. “We would try to make him speak with the negotiator.”

Chloe froze at the hesitation in his voice. _He is nervous_. _He is going to make mistakes._ Her trust in his competencies sank down rapidly and in a moment of the angsty clairvoyance sh realized, she must do something, if she wants to save her daughter.

“Let me speak to him,” she said abruptly. “I mean, to Benitez. Let me into this building, instead of the negotiator.”

“No,” replied Monroe and Carson in unison. “you know you cannot be the one to speak with the kidnapper, Detective,” added the agent. “You are too… personally engaged.”

“I was trained to negotiate in the hostage situation,” said Chloe, trying to sound formal, but this façade broke, when she added: “Benitez is a desperate man, who lost his loved one. I am desperate too, fearing for someone I love. I know how he feels. I would know how to speak to him.”

“We cannot,” replied Monroe. “Chloe, you know the procedures.”

Procedures? Damn the procedures, they wouldn’t save Trixie. Chloe felt the wave of angst realizing that with each passing second her daughter’s life is in increasing danger. How long it would take for Benitez to break down completely? And Trixie was scared, hungry, tired… how long until she starts to panic? To cry, yell, try to run away? Do something that would provoke this man to lose the remains of self-control? In the most likely scenario, Benitez would want to end it all and kill them both, Trixie and himself…

“Then let Lucifer do it,” she said, turning to Monroe, ignoring surprised blink on Carson’s face. “Let him speak to Benitez.”

She saw that the Lieutenant hesitated. After all, she was always more than appreciative of Lucifer, treating him as her wonder-asset, a man who can solve her problems with a snap of his fingers. For a moment it seemed she would agree and Chloe already felt the wave of relief. However, finally Monroe shook her head. “He is not a negotiator, Chloe.”

“I heard about some… exotic cooperation of the LAPD with the nightclub owner,” added Carson, clearing his throat, “but that’s not the place for such experiments.”

 _Yes, because the press would soon be here_ , thought the detective almost hostile.

“But he is…. Lucifer! He could outtalk anyone!” exclaimed Chloe with exasperation and turned to the lieutenant. “You saw for yourself, how he made armed man surrender and discard the weapon just by talking to them. He would do the same with Benitez.”

“I cannot,” Monroe sight with sad, but decisive expression. “It is late evening already, Chloe. The evening at the LUX started a few hours ago. You know Lucifer. He must have been already drinking… or worse… I won’t allow him to the scene.”

“You never minded it before,” snorted Chloe ignoring Carson’s presence. “He was drinking and smoking at the crime scenes and you didn’t care. And now…” she interrupted abruptly, realizing why this time Monroe found it important.

She was afraid of blood testing.

She expected casualties.

Trixie.

They did not believe Trixie would make it alive.

Chloe stared at her superior with the eyes wide open, realizing that she cannot count on the LAPD anymore. If they didn’t believe that they could save Trixie, they wouldn’t be able to do it.

For a moment, she felt terribly alone, knowing that he daughter’s life depends only on her.

There was still Lucifer.

Monroe and Carson were speaking something and Chloe realized they want her to go home. They were kicking her off the scene, and even if a few minutes ago she would give half of her life to be here, now she only nodded, tuning them out.

She finally allowed herself to think about Lucifer in the context that tempted her since morning, even if she didn’t dare to explore it. Not the shoulder to cry on. Not the outspoken consultant with terrifyingly efficient manipulative skills. But someone… someone more.

Someone who could save Trixie.

Did anything else matter?

For a second, she felt as flicking between two realities.

In the first one, she was just going to make the worst mistake of her life, discarding the help of the professional force, her co-workers and colleagues, disposing of adequate experience and equipment in favour of the slightly insane, unpredictable nightclub owner. But in the second reality existed otherworldly dimensions and supernatural forces and she could appeal to the one of them to save her child.

What else had she to lose?

Lucifer said she should have more faith in her intuition. She cautiously eyed Carson and Monroe and her intuition told her, that these two, nervous, resigned and yielding to the pressure, are on the straight path to making wrong decisions, resulting in tragic consequences.

“I will go to the hospital,” she said numbly, oblivious to the fact that she is lying.

As soon as she got into the car, she called the LUX and, when no one answered, Maze and then the LUX again, but still with no results. Of course, so late in the evening, everyone in the LUX had better things to do than answer the phone.

Chloe hesitated for the last time because it was not easy to draw away from the place, where her daughter was being kept kidnapped, but the determination won over the sentiment. She started the engine and headed for the LUX, praying silently, that she would manage to be back on time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter comes from the perfect quotation from C.S. Lewis:  
> “Good and evil both increase at compound interest. That is why the little decisions you and I make every day are of such infinite importance. The smallest good act today is the capture of a strategic point from which, a few months later, you may be able to go on to victories you never dreamed of. An apparently trivial indulgence in lust or anger today is the loss of a ridge or railway line or bridgehead from which the enemy may launch an attack otherwise impossible.”


	15. Whatever happens

LUX welcomed Chloe with exuberant crowds, loud, vibrant music and flashing lights. The detective squinted her tired eyes, for a moment blinded by the bright lamps. Even in her distress, she noticed the subtle change in this place: somehow the dancing floor was slightly too crowded, the pulsating basses a bit too aggressive, the costumes of the dancing girls just on the wrong side of provocative. One could hardly say that it was the same club that hosted Blues Evenings.

And yet, the detective didn’t feel out of place here, on the contrary, once she crossed the threshold of the club, she sighed with relief, as if she just reached the safe place. After all, it was LUX.

She couldn’t spot Lucifer from the gallery, so she plunged into the dancing crowd, pushing herself through the slightly intoxicated, playful people. Those who noticed her stepped back with a frown – she could only guess, how haunted she must have looked. Still, she didn’t care.

Having realized she would not be able to find Lucifer in this crowd, she pushed her way to the bar, where, as expected, she saw Maze.

The bartender was sitting on one of the high chairs and, as the LUX, she was also… more. She had more make-up, the clothes even more tight and revealing and the more grasping smile. She was looking at Chloe, probably observing her from the moment when she entered the club. When the detective reached the bar, Maze smirked unpleasantly.

“Upstairs,” she said only and the detective understood that she would see in Lucifer’s apartment something that, according to Maze, she wouldn’t like.

At the moment, she couldn’t care less. Without losing any more time, Chloe nodded and headed for the elevator. In the corner of her vision, she noticed Maze looking behind her with darkened, anxious eyes, her scornful, naughty mask slipping off for a moment. Chloe wondered fleetingly, why the ninja bartender appeared to be afraid of her, but the thought was gone, as the elevator took her upstairs.

Lucifer’s apartment seemed even more crowded than the club itself. Already in the elevator, Chloe heard the sounds of the party. Just in case, when the doors opened, she kept her eyes glued to the floor until she made sure that Lucifer’s guests were still mostly clothed.

No one paid attention to her. People were dancing, kissing, making out on all surfaces in the apartment, appearing oblivious to everything around. For the first time, Chloe hesitated – not because of their presence, but because of the specific mood of this party.

It was not about entrainment, it was about oblivion.

It dawned to her, that perhaps not everything was fine with Lucifer.

She didn’t see him among the guests and thought she would be forced to search for him in the bedroom. Intending to go round the crowded leaving room she turned, and then noticed him, standing under the bookshelves of his library. She couldn’t help making a small step back.

Lucifer didn’t participate in the party. Fully clothed, much more formally than his guests, he was just standing with folded hands and observing the playful crowd – and there was something very strange in a way how everyone in the room kept away from him, not nearing closer than at the distance of a yard or two, as if there was some barrier around him, he didn’t wish to be crossed.

Then Lucifer shifted a little so that Chloe could see his face – and she realized that the photos on the Internet didn’t give him justice. He didn’t look good.

He wasn’t happy.

For a moment, the detective forgot about her own misery, taking in the shadows under his eyes and the bitterness in his expression. She saw Lucifer tired or angry before, but this time it was different. This time he looked… dark. And old. His eyes were so old.

For one small second, she regretted having come here.

But then it was too late to retreat, because Lucifer suddenly turned toward her, as if felt her presence. His eyes widened and the flash of emotions on his face told Chloe that perhaps they have parted in the worse air than she thought.

However, she had no choice now. Besides, she didn’t come here her searching for the help of delusional playboy. If there was, indeed, something…inhuman in Lucifer’s expression…. it was the side of him she was counting for.

And she needed to hurry. She had lost here enough time.

Steeling her resolve, Chloe took a deep breath and walked toward him. After a moment of hesitation, Lucifer came up to her as well, the guests occupating the penthouse stepping out of his way as if some invisible force pushed them away. He never let her from his sight and Chloe almost physically felt, how he noted all signs of the distress she was subjected to for the whole day. Before they met, the frown on his face changed from reluctant into concerned, the cold aura around him dissipating a bit.

“Detective, you look awful,” he said with certain resentment in his voice, as if she used some unfair trick against him, forcing him to leave the grudge he would prefer to nourish. “What happened?”

“It is about Trixie,” she replied simply. “She was kidnapped. I need your help.”

“Your offspring?” Lucifer frowned. “The child? Who did it? Where is she?”

Chloe sighed with relief, seeing his concern. A moment ago, she feared he could distance himself from her troubles, but now he was again close to the Lucifer she knew. She was about to reply, when one of the guests, a young man, approached Lucifer with the drink in his hand, as feeling that the invisible barrier around him host was broken.

Lucifer looked at him with distraction and refused the drink with a slight shake of the head.

“Go. Have fun,” he said to the man in a way that sounded like an order, not like an invitation. The man looked at him with hazy eyes and turned back, joining the others. By any other occasion, the detective would consider it strange, but now she didn’t care.

“A member of the dealers’ gang who held the grudge against Dan. He shot him and kidnapped her.”

“Daniel got killed?...”

“No, he is in the hospital. But Trixie… This man who shot Dan took her. Would you help me get her back?” Chloe’s voice shivered and the words failed her. “I just… don’t know what to do. I…”

“But of course. I acknowledge this child as the part of you,” Lucifer replied with a shrug. “Let’s go.”

Chloe let out the shaky breath, feeling the tears stinging her eyes, threatening to spill. She expected Lucifer to agree, but the way he did it… as if it was the most obvious thing in the world… No one ever supported her so unconditionally, not even her mother.

“Detective?” Lucifer called her impatiently, already by the elevator, keeping the doors open for her.

“What about all these people here?” asked Chloe, entering the cabin, pointing at the crowd of guests, that somehow remained oblivious to their departure.

Lucifer only waved his hand. “Not what I have been searching for,” he replied with distraction and, as soon as the elevator door separated them from the noises of the party, asked: “Do you know where are your offspring and the man who kidnapped her?”

“In some empty museum. She got kidnapped in the morning, but only a few hours ago the LAPD managed to locate her and the kidnapper,” Chloe hesitated and admitted to her greatest fear. “I can only hope that she is still alive. And then… the risk is increasing with time. This man… he is unhinged. Unpredictable.”

“What does he want?”

“Revenge,” whispered Chloe. “He lost someone he loved. I just… I do not see how he could be persuaded to let her go,” she admitted helplessly.

“Detective, if your offspring would be alive when we get there, I promise you to get her back safely,” replied Lucifer evenly. “And if she got killed, remember that the souls of the children are innocent and pure. Rest assured they go straight to the gates of Heaven.”

The thought of her daughter being dead was too much. Chloe wavered, finally succumbing to the weakness, the walls of the elevator closing over her. Her vision darkened and her legs gave in. She would fell down if Lucifer didn’t held her.

“I am sorry, Detective, I didn’t mean… I wasn’t thinking,” he whispered hastily. Chloe never saw him so embarrassment, the rest of his distance dispersed. “I was just looking at the things from a different perspective. I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” replied Chloe, gathering herself. During this terrible day, she was surrounded with the expressions of fake optimism or hasty consolations. Lucifer didn’t lose time for pretences. “I missed you,” she said earnestly.

“Why didn’t you call me earlier?” he asked quietly and it sounded exactly like ‘I missed you too’. However, Chloe didn’t’ manage to reply, as the elevator finished its course.

Lucifer quickly headed to the service exit, to avoid the crowds gathered at the club. Chloe followed him, trying to decide on the fastest way back to the museum. The next thing to consider would be to decide, what exactly they are going to do when they got to the museum. That was something she didn’t think about, leaving it for a time, when she would get to Lucifer. Now, her head was empty.

 _Or maybe,_ she thought a bit hazily, weariness and hunger taking better of her for a moment, _I do not have to think about anything. Didn’t he promise to get her back safely? Maybe he would simply do it._ After all, she came here led by belief, that Lucifer is more than a man. That he can do things beyond the human’s possibilities. Maybe she should just stick to this belief.

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Maze’s sharp voice cut off Chloe’s deliberations, bringing her back to reality. Apparently, the detective was right, seeing the nervousness on the bartender’s face during their earlier encounter. Maze must have been waiting for them on the parking and at Lucifer’s sight, he snorted with anger.

“Everything was back to normal,” she hissed at him, her eyes blazing. “And now what? She comes just like that, whistles, and you are what, back on the leash?...”

“Easy, Mazikeen. I have no time for your tantrums right now,” replied Lucifer almost serenely and passed by the seething bartender. The detective after the short consideration followed his example, only kept a bit more distance. Maze looked as if she was about to rip someone into shreds.

“Where are you going?” demanded Maze, but Lucifer ignored her. He stepped in front of Chloe’s car with the hand on the door form the driver side.

“Let me drive,” he asked.

Chloe slowly nodded. She knew how he used to drive and realized he would get quicker to their destination. She needed only to trust that he won’t kill them both during the way there.

“Put the siren on,” she said with resignation, moving to the passenger’s seat. At least they wouldn’t be stopped for crossing the speed limit. “Just remember to take it off, until the police around the museum would notice it,” she added, remembering they should remain unseen.

Lucifer froze, looking at her questioningly and Chloe realized he didn’t understant the last precaution.

“Oh… you got me wrong,” she said, confused. “I didn’t ask for your help… officially. It is not the LAPD assignment. They kicked me off the scene, told me to go home and wait. The operation is led by an agent… he was doing his best, but now he is bending under pressure. And when the critical moment comes…” Chloe swallowed, imagining how quickly one hasty, inconsiderate decision could cost her daughter’s life. “I… I know they… they won’t make it. I mean… they won’t save Trixie, so…”

“Trixie?” asked Maze nearing to them. “That child of yours? A small thing with these…?” she waved her hands around the head, imitating Trixie’s ponytails. Chloe only nodded, not letting the eyes from Lucifer, who in the meantime remained motionless looking at her with a puzzled expression.

“So what exactly do you want me to do, Detective?” he asked quietly.

Chloe blinked, confused. Was he having… some second thoughts now? Because he heard they would be acting behind the police back?... Certainly not. The detective realized his voice wasn’t helpless, only very… factual. He wasn’t refusing her, only… checking the limits. She came closer and looked him in the eye almost challengingly.

“Bring her back. As you promised.”

 _Whatever it takes. Wake the Hell up, if necessary,_ she thought and certainly he could have read it in her sight.

Lucifer crooked his head, watching her, and slightly nodded.

“Mazikeen. I think we would need you,” he said casually, getting into the car.

The bartender snorted, but without the trace of previous hostility. “If there is going to be some action, I am in,” she replied, placing herself in the backseat.

* * *

With the police siren on the car roof, Lucifer threw away the remains of the regards he might have had to the traffic rules. The detective for once didn’t complain, only kept the sight glued to her palms, to avoid getting into the details of his narrow escape manoeuvres. In the meantime, she tried to consider the next part of the plan.

“I am not sure how we should proceed,” she admitted. “I wanted the LAPD to let you… or me… negotiate with him, but they didn’t agree. And, in fact, I am not certain whether this man can be persuaded to give up. He already… lost everything.”

“Even the most heartless fiends have sometimes reservations against murdering children,” observed Lucifer, so matter-of-factly, as if he was reading the manual. “Tell me more about this man.”

“Benitez. The special informer Dan was working with. Do you remember this ‘stunt’ theme that flashed in my investigation from time to time? But keep looking at the road,” she pleaded because Lucifer turned to her with vivid interest. “Benitez was a stunt. Bribed to the cooperation with the police, and then blackmailed by his own gang to continue it as a double agent. He was blackmailed with the life of his daughter, who, at the end was murdered. At least that’s what Dan says,” she added.

“Ah, the Douche! I am certain that his incompetence considerably contributed to this misfortune,” muttered Lucifer.

“It did,” stated matter-of-factly Chloe, simultaneously feeling obliged to add: “But we both made bad decisions, Dan and me. We were… quarrelling about her. I was sending her to Dan like a package because I was busy. And he was trying to prove me, that he is… better. And we didn’t see her. Am I making any sense?” she asked, suddenly embarrassed with her openness.

“Not to me,” replied Lucifer lightly. “But I am not an expert on children. Or on all these small family dramas.”

“Only on the very big ones,” chuckled Maze from the backseat.

Chloe shook her head, feeling familiar sting of irritation. Why did she think that opening to them would be a good idea?

“I have a feeling that Dan and I are being punished in consequence of our bad choices,” she said curtly. “Does in sound more comprehensible to you?”

“Perhaps. And I know what you feel, Detective,” observed Lucifer, not letting his eyes from the road, just as she asked him. “Guilt. That’s something I am an expert on. You are searching for the way to blame yourself for your daughter’s kidnapping. Believe me, that’s… unnecessary.”

“I know, I need to stick to the facts,” muttered Chloe, more to herself than to him. She needed to concentrate on what she should do to help Trixie… not on what she should have done differently. The past couldn’t be undone. “And yet I cannot stop thinking that each time this misfortune could have been avoided, we failed somehow, due to our small, petty sins, and now we are paying for it, as if it all was some kind of a plan…”

“Oh, but perhaps it was,” replied Lucifer, seemingly so lightly as before, but with a shadow of strain in his voice. “Perhaps it was, indeed a part of the plan, for you and Daniel, to…” he chuckled in a rather unpleasant way and recited sneeringly: “to give you a lesson what truly matters in life and renew the respect to your marriage vows. If so, it apparently didn’t work out, as you are here with me… theough perhaps you should be with him in the hospital, waiting and trusting that your daughter would be saved… by others. Perhaps that’s what you should have done, Detective.”

Chloe frowned at his last words, suspecting another mockery, but his this time his expression remained serious. Keeping his eyes on the road, he spoke again after a while, this time with more strain: “Or perhaps it was a plan for you to come to me… which would make it… a plan for me,” he spat, not hiding anger, “so that we would get back together again… and you would keep prattling around me about the mercy… and this, obviously worked, because…”

Lucifer silenced for a while, driving through the big crossroad on the red lights, manoeuvring between two big trucks. Chloe squeezed the eyes shot, expecting the sound of crashing cars behind them, but all that followed them were the noises of horns.

“Because I was determined not to meet you again, Detective and yet when I saw you today, I cannot imagine another parting,” he finished quietly, the gentle tone in strange contrast to his violent driving manoeuvre. “Or perhaps there was, indeed, no plan,” he concluded in the casual tone. “Perhaps it was all accidental, Detective, and that’s actually the worst option for your offspring, because, from what you told me, your LAPD colleagues won’t be able to negotiate with this man releasing her.”

“I know that much,” snapped Chloe, her strained temper compromised by Lucifer’s words. “That’s why I asked for your help.”

“Yes, you did…” he sighed and for a moment drove in silence. Chloe realized they were getting close to the museum and waved for him to take the siren off. Lucifer slowed to do it and suddenly stopped the car. “Asking for the help of the devil is bound to have consequences. I.. I have no idea where it would lead,” admitted, sounding surprisingly helpless.

“I don’t care,” said quietly Chloe. She felt very, very tired, and the time was running out, but she felt that Lucifer needed some kind of assurance from her side, so she forced herself to look at him and say: “I want my daughter back, alive, now. I don’t care about the consequences. I will deal with everything, somehow, later. I just need to get my child back.”

Lucifer for a moment looked in her eyes as if he wanted to read her thoughts, and nodded. Without further comment he turned the car on again, this time slowly and cautiously driving closer toward the museum. Chloe already saw blue and red lights of police vehicles. And, of course, a few press trucks, unloading their equipment.

“You are overthinking it, Lucifer,” snorted Maze from the backseat. “Plan, no plan, same shit. Let’s go and spill some blood.”

The detective turned back to explain, that the priority was Trixie’s safety, not the bloodshed, but the bartender leant toward her with a spark of excitement in her eyes:

“I can gut this Benitez or whatever his name is,” she offered. “Slowly.”

“There will be no gutting,” muttered Lucifer, casting an anxious glance at Chloe. However, the detective felt only slight irritation that he refused Maze’s offer so easily. “I only need you, Mazikeen, to take care of the child, so that she wouldn’t get scared.”

“You are afraid that the child would get scared and you want me to take care of it,” repeated slowly the bartender with utter amazement in her voice. “I even do not know which part of this sentence is more absurd. You play nanny. I will have fun with the guy.”

“No fun,” replied Lucifer, quietly, because they were stopped by the policeman who was turning back the cars from the street leading to the museum. Chloe showed him her badge and he let them pass. Lucifer parked a bit closer to the building, but still in a distance so that they wouldn’t get noticed by the LAPD operational group, surrounding the building.

“No fun, Mazikeen,” he repeated. “That man is... he lost a daughter.”

“So what?” the bartender shrugged her shoulders and then looked at Lucifer with disbelief. “You really care about it!” she burst out with short laugher, though she looked more scared than amused. “Do you even hear yourself? That’s… terryfying. Please, let’s go home before it is too late!” she pleaded, but after short consideration added: “After we get this small human back.”

“Just stop it,” hushed them Chloe. In the meantime, she got out of the car and for a moment observed the situation. “To start with, I have no idea how are we even going to get inside.”

It didn’t look that the police made the move already and Chloe felt the wave of relief, feeling, that they were on time. If Benitez wasn’t pressured, perhaps he didn’t… he didn’t do anything to Trixie. Then, however, she noticed, how tightly secured by the police cars the building was. And somewhere inside was a Trixie, held hostage by a madman. Suddenly she felt helpless again. Even if for a moment she felt a bit better, slightly consoled by the fact that she was not alone, now all the terror of the situation crushed her again. What on the hell was she about to do? Sneak inside, behind the back of the police? How?

“Getting inside won’t be a problem,” observed obliviously Maze, looking around. “For us.”

And it was clear that by ‘us’ she meant herself and Lucifer. Chloe opened her mouth to object when she felt Lucifer’s hand on her shoulder.

“You need to stay, Detective,” he said quietly, but with finality in his voice. “That’s the condition.”

Chloe swallowed tears, that suddenly threatened to spill, Fear, helplessness and weariness suddenly overwhelming her. Lucifer was to help her, why was he asking her about the most difficult thing?

And yet arguing with him would only result in losing time. The detective gave up without further discussion.

“The LADP may intervene any moment,” she said, trying to sound composed and failing, when the sob broke her voice. “There might be shooting. In such case, Trixie might be hurt, even accidentally…”

“Don’t worry, I know what to do,” muttered Maze. “I will keep her safe.”

“Oh, and…” added quickly Chloe, the tears openly flowing down her face, “when you tell her to do like three little monkeys, she would cover her eyes and ears. We learnt her to do so when we were quarrelling with Dan… too often... so that she didn’t… witness it.”

She felt the Lucifer’s grip on her shoulder tighten for a moment and saw how he and Maze exchange glances, looking then at her in disbelief.

Well, yes. She knew who she was asking for help.

“So, that would come in handy,” stated Maze almost obliviously after a moment and turned back, striding toward the building.

Lucifer let her shoulder off and for a moment it looked as if he was going to wipe the tears from her face. Or at least embrace and hug her. However, instead, he reached for her hand and put it on the car door, pressing her palm slightly to the metal surface. Then, without any more word, he followed Maze.

It seemed they were walking straight toward the police cars, crowding around the museum.

And then, all of a sudden, the world went black.

Wholly black.

No like when the street lamps go down, or clouds cover the moon, or there is a blackout and lights are extinguished, and it gets darker, but still there remains, some light, reflected in the glass, or in water, or in the air, and the eyes eventually can adjust to it.

No. It was as something sucked out all light from the world, not leaving even smallest, shyest twinkle.

The detective had never experienced such darkness before. She gasped, suffocating as if the air devoided of light was also lacking oxygen and fought against the wave of vertigo. Suddenly she lost the sense of balance, not being able to tell top from bottom, her only anchor point in the reality being the cold, metal surface of the car she was still touching. Slowly, she leant herself over the vehicle, pressing her back to it, to stabilize herself and locate herself back in the reality.

She closed her eyes because the blackness behind her lids was more familiar than the darkness outside. For a moment, she just stood, breathing.

Slowly, with few deep breaths, the sense of panic diminished and her other senses sharpened. She heard the scared shouts of the poor policemen guarding the building – no, they certainly didn’t expect anyone passing by them at the moment, and even it, they wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. She also heard some vehicles horning and then crashing and only hoped that these were press cars, not the police ones.

And then it was over.

Just unexpectedly, as the unnatural darkness covered the world, it receded.

Lucifer and Maze were nowhere to be seen and the policemen were shouting and trying to reorganize themselves after the unexpected incident.

Chloe considered her options for a moment and decided that the only thing she could do would be keeping Monroe and Carson from premature intervention, that could hinder Lucifer’s action. Quickly, she walked toward the blue and red police lights pulsing in front of the museum.

* * *

“What the fuck was it?” Carson’s shouts were heard from the distance. “A blackout? Here? Now?”

He sounded a bit hysterical. The detective thought, she judged him right, seeing how this otherwise calm and composed man was changing under excessive pressure.

“A blackout,” replied someone. “But it was too short. Benitez couldn’t have escaped.”

“Still, it shouldn’t have happened. Ms Decker?” the agent noticed her and for a moment his expression faltered with discontent and anxiety. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going to the hospital.”

“I couldn’t stay away,” she said only. “What are you going to do?”

“We tried to contact Benitez, but he refused to negotiate,” replied Monroe. “We are going to try a forcible solution.”

“No!...” gasped the detective, imagining the unit storming into the building, the exchange of fire and her daughter in the middle of it. “The risks…”

“I am aware of the risks,” muttered Carson. He measures the dark museum building with a gloomy sight, then, almost subconsciously passed the glance by the press vehicles standing in the short distance. “Does your proposal still stand, Chloe?” he asked with hesitation. “Do you want… and feel up to the task… to talk with the kidnapper?”

“Yes!” called Chloe immediately. Then, however, she recalled Lucifer’s words: ‘You need to stay out of it. That’s the condition.’ He definitely didn’t want her there.

But it was about Trixie. How could she stay away?

On the other hand, what if… her presence would cause some irreversible harm? Lucifer seemed absolutely confident of being able to cope with Benitez. What if her presence would case things slipping out of control? She had already trusted Lucifer over the legitimate police force, over her work colleagues. Apparently, she should also trust him over herself.

 _Please, let it all be true,_ she prayed silently. _Let him really be the devil, so that he would be able to save my daughter._

“No,” she replied with resignation. “No, I cannot.”

“That’s understandable,” nodded Carson with resignation, unaware of her inner struggle. “In such case, there is no other choice but…”

The sound of shots, coming from the museum, resounded in the air.

Chloe’s heart stopped beating, the wave of fear flooding over her. Carson cursed, just as Monroe, people around her started to shout and run and for a moment there was nothing but commotion. Someone pulled her aside and she saw the strike unit preparing to barge into the building. She thought about following them and, perhaps, in the general confusion she would manage to do that, to get to the building behind them.

And then she recalled once again, that she had to stay away.

 _Almost like in this fucking story about not looking back,_ she thought with desperation. _The man was to get back his brother… or perhaps his wife… if he wouldn’t look back while walking out of hell…_ The grey paths of hell from her dreams flickered in her mind and for a moment the ash-covered labyrinth seemed almost friendly. Everything would be better, than waiting here, in front of this building. That was real hell.

“Chloe, step aside,” someone said to her and the detective recognized one of the police officers she knew quite well. “Or the press would spot you. They would kill for a photo of you at the moment.”

Chloe nodded with a bitter smirk and let the woman led her under the arcades of the nearest building. She could wait there unnoticed.

For a moment she stood, pressing the hands to her mouths, dying inside.

“Decker!”

The sound of Maze’s voice was like a hit of electric shock. The detective turned on the spot in its direction. The slim silhouette was barely visible in the darkness, but Chloe noticed that the bartender was keeping something in her arms and her heart stopped beating again.

“Here. All safe and sound,” stated Maze. “Unhook yourself from me, little human,” she touched the small hands wrapped around her neck but made no effort to pull them forcefully aside.

“Trixie!...” chocked Chloe.

“Mum!” sobbed Trixie, throwing herself straight from Maze’s arm into hers.

 _Trixie, Trixie, Trixie…_ Chloe felt the tears flowing down her cheeks, when she was pressing the little body do herself, kissing her, cuddling, trying to check her limbs for any injuries…

“Maze, how…” she asked, but the passage under the arcades was empty.

Chloe returned her whole attention to her daughter, trying to whisper some words of comfort, though barely comprehensible due to emotions. Trixie, all tensed at first, slowly relaxed in her arms, at first quietly, then louder, finally drawing the attention of the police to them.

“That’s her? That’s this child?... Alive?” agent Carson appeared to be at the verge of collapsing, wiping away the sweat from his face. “How?...”

“I am not sure”, replied Chloe, not letting Trixie out of her arms, even when she felt that someone led them to the ambulance. She only released her hold a bit to let the medic examine Trixie, but still kept her on her lap.

“She must have escaped from the building,” informed her Monroe, peeking into the ambulance. “Benitez is dead, you know? Suicide,” she added lowering her voice. “Carson almost died when he saw it. He was certain, that…”

 _That Benitez killed Trixie before committing suicide,_ finished Chloe in her thoughts and ran her hands again over her daughter’s body, making sure that she was alive, that she was fine, no matter what happened in that museum.

When the ambulance pulled out and Chloe, still not letting Trixie go, reached to her pocket for the phone and called Dan.

“Trixie’s fine,” she said immediately after hearing his voice. “I have her.”

“I know,” replied Dan. “Are you going to the hospital now?” He must have heard their ambulance signal in the phone.

“Yes. She is fine. She just needs to be hydrated. Probably we would even be able to visit you later. How did you know? Someone called you, right? What did they say?” asked Chloe to learn more about the events in the museum. “I even don’t know what exactly happened.”

“Neither do I,” replied Dan. “It was Maze, you know. She only told me that Trixie is found. Maze and Lucifer were there, right? I thought you asked her to call me.”

Chloe would have got surprised if she didn’t felt that tired. And cold. Finally, the adrenaline that kept her going started to drop and she succumbed to the wave of exhaustion, the only energy that remained concentrated on keeping the hold on Trixie.

“No,” she replied only. “It must have been Lucifer. Yes, they were here.”

She disconnected the conversation and leant herself over the ambulance wall, oblivious to anything other than the child in her arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This had to be shorter and a bit darker. And still, the last chapter is still to be written. Stay with me for one more installment :)


	16. Epilogue

“Do you remember anything, what happened later, Sweatheart? Anything at all?” Detective Amanda leant over Trixie’s hospital bed with an encouraging smile.

Trixie shook her head, slowly, and on her little face appeared closed, detached expression.

“No,” she whispered and her big brown eyes suddenly filled with tears.

Amanda Warren was the nicest and prettiest officer at the precinct. She had gentle manners, sweet voice and was usually chosen to speak with children. That’s why she had a certain experience in similar cases and knew when not to press the issue. Trixie very sensibly related events that happened during her kidnapping, but only until the moment when Benitez hid with her in the museum. As soon as Amanda asked about it, the child silenced and closed herself.

“That’s fine. You have been very brave,” Amanda said only and stood up to leave. Already in the door, she hugged Chloe and said quietly: “I am afraid she is traumatized. She would need to attend the therapy.”

“I know,” replied Chloe, opening the door for her colleague. However, as soon as Amanda left, the detective turned to Trixie.

“Why did you lie, Monkey?” she asked softly.

Trixie squirmed, looking a bit guilty. “Because Maze asked me not to tell anyone what happened,” she replied in her usual, clever voice. “Do I have to tell the police about it, Mum?”

“No, you don’t,” answered immediately Chloe, well aware that she was just teaching her daughter double standards and that would backfire at her rather sooner than later. “Not even Daddy. But I want you to tell me.”

Trixie hesitated and Chloe thought that she was just starting to collect what she sewed. “You may tell me,” she repeated. “I asked Lucifer and Maze to help us.”

Trixie eyed her cautiously. “This man took me to this building,” she started finally. “There were such big rooms, all empty, and he asked me to sit in the middle of one of them. He was getting crazy. He was crazy before, but once we got there, it was… more. He was crying, and shouting,” Trixie shuddered and Chloe thought that they would be doing this therapy anyway. “And he got even worse when he saw the police outside the building.”

Chloe sat on the hospital bad, embraced her daughter and snuggled her closer. She tried to calculate time – how long it took from the moment when the LAPD surrounded the building until she returned with Lucifer. An hour? Definitely more. Two, perhaps? All this time Trixie was sitting alone with the madman. The detective felt the wave of guilt, that she somehow didn’t act quicker.

“I am sorry,” she whispered.

“I was hungry. And I was afraid about Daddy,” whispered back Trixie.

For a moment they just sat together, cuddling.

“And then it got dark. So very, very dark,” continued Trixie. “I thought about running away but it was too dark.”

“You are very brave, Monkey.”

“I couldn’t run away, but this man also couldn’t catch me. I think he tried to, but he couldn’t, because of this darkness. It was like a… blanket. Can we touch the darkness, Mummy?”

_Yes. Yes, we can._

“I am not sure. Were you scared?”

Trixie kept silent for a while. The brave admirer of ‘Coraline’, Halloween, and all the ghost and supernatural stories, took a moment to admit very quietly: “Yes.” As if feeling the need to justify herself, she added: “That wasn’t a… nice kind of dark, Mummy.”

“Yes, Trixie. It wasn’t,” agreed softly Chloe. She swallowed, moving all the worrying thoughts at the back of her mind and said: “And then you saw Maze, right?”

After all, Lucifer said to Maze he needed her so that Trixie wouldn’t get scared.

“Yes,” replied Trixie and beamed. “I didn’t see her, but she saw me. She saw everything. I’d like to see in darkness too, Mum, like Maze... So, she grabbed me and pulled me aside and told me to do like the little monkeys, to cover my eyes and ears… and I wanted to do it anyway because this man was shouting again...” Trixie shuddered once more and closed her eyes for a second, but when she opened them, they shined with the usual liveliness. “She took me outside and she told me, that she would teach me how to kick straight in the balls so that no one would get me again. Can she do it, Mum? Please?”

Chloe sighed. Of course, aggression was one of the possible unhealthy coping mechanisms. But… the detective still remembered the satisfcation she felt breaking the nose of the dealer who humiliated her in the motel ‘Albatross’. It tasted well, to feel strong.

“That sounds like a good idea,” she replied seriously.

“Do you think that Maze would remember?” asked Trixie, cuddling herself closer to her, her eyes already half-closed and the head falling on the pillow. “Not like when the grown-ups promise something to make you quiet and then forget about it?”

Chloe felt herself blushing. “No, Monkey. I don’t think so.”

Maze was certainly above giving empty promises to bribe a child. The ninja bartender didn’t say much, but when she did – she was rather meaningful. Now Chloe realized, how many times she was mistaken thinking that Maze was just throwing weird threats, or playing the word-games with Lucifer.

She should have listened to her more cautiously.

She should have listened to Lucifer more cautiously.

All these times, when Lucifer was speaking about… himself, or about his past… and she ignored him, turning his prattling into the background noise because she thought he is simply dwelling into his illusions… perhaps if she had been listening to him she would have had better understanding of her present situation?

Though, on the other hand, what would that change? She was far beyond the point where she had control over her life. All the choices have already been made. ‘I don’t care, I will deal with everything’, she said to Lucifer, didn’t she?

“Mummy?” asked sleepily Trixie. “What are these balls I am going to kick at?”

“Maze would explain you,” taken by surprise, Chloe replied rather inconsiderately.

“Okey,” muttered Trixie and her eyes closed.

For a moment, Chloe watched her falling asleep. Yes, she had made the choice and she didn’t regret it. Compared to the fact, that she could have lost her daughter, nothing else seemed scary. Just as she said, she would deal with it.

When the detective was sure that the girl was soundly sleeping, she cautiously raised from the bed and moved to the armchair. Then she reached for her phone and dialled Maze.

“Maze? I wanted to thank you and Lucifer,” she said quietly.

“I didn’t do it for you,” the bartender replied with her usual harshness. “The kid is fine?”

“Yes, she is. Maze, I am…” started Chloe, but she then she heard Maze talking to someone else about ‘finally buying his own fucking phone’ and she understood that the bartender was passing the cell to Lucifer. For a moment, Chloe wondered what have they been doing. She assumed that they would return to the club, but there was no music in the background.

“Detective?” Lucifer’s voice, a bit wary, sounded in the speaker. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, we are. We are still in the hospital, but they should release us in a few hours. Lucifer…”

“Detective, then perhaps we would speak later? At more… convenient time?” Lucifer seemed to be distracted, but Chloe heard the tension, barely masked by the faked lightness in his voice.

So, an evasion, not because he didn’t want to talk with her, or because they didn’t have anything to talk about - only because he wasn’t ready for the conversation.

“Okey,” she replied softly. “But…”

“The moment is not the best, I guess,” he interrupted her. “After all, you are still at the hospital. We would talk later.”

He sounded so nervous, that for a moment Chloe wanted to tell him, that, well, perhaps she did got scared with his show of darkness, because who wouldn’t – but she didn’t mind it, as it did the job. Or that she didn’t care a bit what exactly happened to Benitez. Before she managed to phrase it, however, she felt that Lucifer was about to disconnect the conversation so she only said quickly:

“Thank you.”

“Stay safe, Detective,” replied Lucifer, hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say something more, and then ended the conversation.

Chloe fleetingly regretted that he ended the conversation so quickly, but she was too tired to care. She thought only that in a few hours they should be released from a hospital. They would go home and she would do nothing but pamper her daughter, and make her feel save, and loved… Her eyes closed and at the same moment, she fell asleep on the uncomfortable hospital armchair.

* * *

The next days Chloe spent with Trixie. She took her overdue leave and did her best to concentrate on her daughter and her needs. They spent days together, cooking, eating and watching TV. Sometimes, they made small excursions. On the evenings she read Trixie all the books she wanted and then they fell asleep together.

Lucifer remained silent. Sometimes Chloe feared the moment when he would finally call, and sometimes she feared that he wouldn’t call her at all, only disappear from her life like a phantom from Trixie’s books. That thought made he squirm with anxiety and urged her to drive to the LUX, or at least call him. However, something told her she needs to wait with visiting him, until Lucifer would be ready for it. In the meantime, she could do nothing but wait.

After all, that leash Maze spoke about, had two ends.

Dan was released from the hospital quite quickly, and they prepared for him a ‘welcome back’ party. For Trixie’s sake, Chloe didn’t make him any reproaches. There were only smiles and hugs and they both very carefully avoided any difficult subject.

For a few days, she and Dan did their best to provide their daughter with all the care and stability that loving, cooperative parents could give and struggled not to disturb the fragile consent in their relations with as much as the reluctant glance.

For a few days, it all worked somehow.

After all, Chloe was ready for all the sacrifice to keep Trixie happy, even if maintaining the family harmony between her and Dan was becoming more and more difficult with each passing day and the way they were tip-toeing around each other to avoid the quarrel was increasingly straining her nerves.

All this unravelled somehow after four or five days when Lucifer finally showed the first sign of life and sent flowers and chocolates for Trixie, proving by this – otherwise simple and innocent gesture – that he was bound to bring havoc into Chloe’s life. The chocolates were namely addressed to Beatrice Espinoza and the girl, ecstatic for being treated ‘as an adult lady’ demanded to be called ‘Beatrice’ from now on. Chloe immediately agreed, but Dan definitely didn’t and that, from one word to another, led to the terrible raw, worse than any of their previous quarrels, unleashing all the tension that was long gathering in both of them. Ugly, painful words were said and all the accusations, they avoided with such effort, were now yelled, laud and angrily.

And some time later, when they cooled down enough to remember who they forgot about, Chloe found Trixie curled up in her room, covering her eyes and ears, ‘just as the three little monkeys did’.

Chloe understood then, that nothing, not even the thick darkness in the empty museum, could have been worse than what she and Dan put their daughter through. No matter what Lucifer said about the possible outcomes of ‘the plan’, she and Dan together were meant to be a cathastrophe, this way or another.

At least enough time has passed since they filled in the divorce and the paperwork was ready. They signed the papers finalizing the end of their marriage at the very same evening, in the silent, but relatively compliant mood.

Trixie cried but didn’t ask them not to do it.

Chloe also admitted finally, that it would take her some time to forget how Dan endangered Trixie. She almost felt bad saying this, but surprisingly Dan appeared rather relieved, that this subject was finally directly addressed.

Chloe was also a bit relieved when they stopped to pretend that everything was fine.

When she stopped to pretend, that everything was fine.

The next days she spent on glueing together the pieces of her life together she could repair and not thinking about those parts she couldn’t control. She found therapy sessions for Trixie and tried to squeeze them into Trixie graphic. She prepared Trixie’s return to school, forcing her to catch up on the lessons she missed and did thousands of other little tedious things that needed to be done.

When she finally managed to drown all her fears and longings in the daily routine, and the end of her leave was close, she received the call from Lieutenant Monroe. Her superior, not hiding exhilaration, announced that she wouldn’t have to search for the new partner for Chloe because Mr Morninstar had decided to offer again his consultive services to the LAPD. The fact, that he would again be Chloe’s partner was obvious and unquestionable for everyone. Whatever Lucifer proposed Monroe, must have been enough to hand him Chloe’s career on the silver plate.

Hearing this, the detective was livid. Lucifer didn’t found a suitable moment to talk with her but had enough time to speak with Monroe – or perhaps even to visit her, judging from the fact how giddy the Lieutenant was. Chloe found it almost humiliating.

The excitement and relief she felt after hearing that he was returning to work with her were humiliating too and she did her best to bury it under the irritation.

Considering all this turmoil of emotions, she was done with waiting for his invitation and, immediately after disconnecting the conversation, she decided to drive to the LUX.

* * *

Her determination was a bit tampered by the fact that she had to take Trixie with her. Though she couldn’t imagine talking to Lucifer in Trixie’s presence, she also couldn’t force herself to leave her daughter in Dan’s care. It would probably take her a few weeks to forget the trauma and trust him again. Considering this, the next weeks were going to be a real logistic nightmare… On her way to the LUX, the detective was consumed by the role of working mother, terrified by the perspective of struggling with both her own and her daugther’s graphics.

But once she entered the LUX, everything changed.

The club was, as always, spotlessly clean, all polished glass, soft leather and decadent details. Stepping from the bright Californian sun into the welcoming semi-darkness of the familiar space was like shifting into another reality.

Suddenly the graphics weren’t important anymore.

“Good morning, Ms Decker,” Patric welcomed her with a smile. “And who is this young lady?”

“I am Beatrice,” announced proudly Trixie, sounding very much like a real lady. The image was spoilt by the way she jumped up and squealed: “Maze!” as soon as the familiar graceful silhouette appeared in view. She threw herself at the bartender, hugging her closely.

“Hi, kid,” muttered stiffly Maze, standing motionlessly with her arms raised awkwardly up.

And yet, she didn’t look uncomfortable.

Chloe for a moment considered thanking the bartender once again but then decided on more diplomatic approach. “Trixie wanted to thank you in person,” she said and, struck by inspiration, added: “I need to speak with Lucifer. If he is here, perhaps I could leave Trixie with you for a while?”

“Lucifer is in his apartment,” replied Maze, so confused, that she sounded almost polite. “But I am not…”

“You had to teach me how to kick the balls,” reminded Trixie, stepping back and raising her big eyes with a hopeful expression.

“Ugh…” Maze shifted in an obvious quandary.

“It won’t take long,” promised Chloe, quickly passing by her and heading fast for the elevator.

* * *

And then, when she was already in the elevator and had pushed the right button – and there was no way to get out of this machine before it reached Lucifer’s apartment – exactly then she felt the wave of fear.

For the first time since that terrifying evening when she was struggling to save her daughter, she thought about… the real Lucifer. Of course, there was no use to lie to herself anymore. She always knew that there was something… unique in him. Something inexplicable. Something just under his chaotic but likable façade threatening to snap any moment and unleash…

At first, she was simply curious to understand it. To solve his riddle.

And, well, she solved it. Or at least was very close to solving it. That’s why she left. Just because she preferred to dismiss everything not consistent with her concept of reality. ‘I am not into all this supernatural stuff’ she used to say, and she really wanted to keep it that way.

So, she got scared of something she did not understand and left. No one could blame her for that. After all, she didn’t owe him anything.

At least then, because now she owed him, much. She owed him Trixie. Chloe was not going to be a hypocrite and ignore the forces she appealed to when she was in need.

 _I am going to have a talk with a devil,_ she thought. _And he knows that I know._ For a moment she just freaked out and would give anything for the chance to get out of this elevator.

But, just as she thought a moment before, she was not going to be a hypocrite. It wouldn’t be… honourable, to freak out now.

_I will have to deal with it. Just like I said I would._

Besides, that was Lucifer. And when he left the LAPD, she missed him so much.

 _After all, I do not have to dwell too much on this ’devil’ part,_ Chloe shrugged her shoulders, trying to calm her breathing. Her short religious crisis didn’t bring her anything good but more commotion in her head. _I will think about him as about a man with… special abilities. Supernatural abilities. Like in some Discovery programme._

A few pictures flashed in front of her eyes, like the ash-covered labyrinth, Maze with deformed face or Marot Jensen falling on her knees in front of Lucifer, but she dismissed them all. Lucifer was back in her life and if it had to work out, she couldn’t be scared of him. After all, they were going to work together.

Oh, but who was she trying to cheat? That was not about the work.

 _I want him back,_ thought desperately Chloe. _I need it to work out because I want him back. No, not only back. I want more of him. I will either accept or ignore anything necessary to keep him because I…_

The door of the elevator opened.

* * *

Lucifer’s apartment was empty this time, the space of the loft full of sunlight, due to the uncovered windows. The bright sun rays assaulted Chloe’s eyes as soon as she exited the elevator and she wondered, why Lucifer didn’t use any curtains to cover these huge glass panels.

Ah, but Lucifer loved light. There were these big windows to open the space for the sun or the city lights at night, and the fireplace, and the light panels behind the bar and all types of chandeliers… Lingering to compose herself before the conversation Chloe looked around noting all these sources of light. There was something telling in this game of light and shadow that was so characteristic both for the club and for Lucifer’s apartment. However, she didn’t dwell on it, because her attention drew the small changes that took place in the loft, she didn’t notice last time, as the place was too crowded. Now she saw that some furniture was changed. Like the bar counter, or the coffee table, or the panel behind the bar… mostly the glass surfaces.

Feeling more or less ready for the conversation she stepped into the apartment.

“Lucifer?...” she called and a rustle from the balcony drew her attention.

“Hello, Detective,” Lucifer, entering the room, smiled in obvious effort to sound as cool and casual, as at the beginning of their acquaintance.

He failed.

And Chloe didn’t even try to behave as if nothing changed.

Because, ah, so many things have changed. For example, when she saw him now, her heartbeat fastened and her first impression was that she forgot how handsome he was. Of course, she always admitted that he was good-looking, but earlier it was like ‘handsome but rather not my type’. Now it was more ‘no other man in the world is worth looking at’.

Somehow, the ‘devil’ part fell into the second plan and for a moment Chloe could only wonder whether he, by any chance, thought something similar about her.

Not likely, judging from the fact as he just stood in the middle of the room, appearing to be rather confused than content with her visit. The silence between them was slowly getting uncomfortable but Chloe’s head was empty.

“You have been redecorating?” the detective asked finally, pointing at the new furniture and immediately bridled at her stupidity, because could there be the more idiotic beginning of the conversation? Considering everything they needed to talk about? On the other hand, she felt a sting of resentment, because, well, she had been crying out her soul after him… and he was changing the furniture?

“Just a little bit,” replied Lucifer absently. “Would you please sit down?” he proposed with a heavy sigh and Chloe thought that he behaved as if he didn’t want her to come here.

Suddenly she felt very miserable. _But the last time we spoke he said he missed me,_ she recalled almost desperately, sitting on the sofa.

 _No. He didn’t say anything like this. I said I missed him, He said… he said he wouldn’t bear another parting, which could probably mean that he had missed me. But just before he said he was determined not to see me again._ Chloe’s heart clenched and she regretted having come here instead of calling first… checking the ground…

“I assume you got the phone from your Lieutenant and decided that we need to speak?” he asked and there was again something so reluctant and even defensive in his voice, that Chloe snapped.

“I can leave, if you are not in the mood,” she said sharply. Damn, she sounded like a sulking teenager. It only lacked that she would start sniffing her nose,

“No, no, Detective,” Lucifer turned quickly toward her, waking up from his apathy. “Please stay. I expected you. It is just…” he hesitated and suddenly turned toward his bar. “A drink perhaps?”

“No, thank you,” Chloe shook her head. “I drove here. With Trixie. She is downstairs with Maze.”

“Oh,” Lucifer, carrying a drink in hand, joined her at the sofa. At least he didn’t sit at the same armchair as the last time. “How peculiar. You know, that Maze… Ah, never mind. Maze would take good care of your spawn.”

“I know. You and Maze, you saved her. Thank you,” Chloe said softly. She felt good, being able to thank him in person as if something warm and bright was waking up in her. Acting on this feeling, she reached for his hand and squeezed it slightly. “I would die without her.”

Lucifer shifted uncomfortably and very gently withdrew his hand from her grasp, focusing on his drink.

“I didn’t kill this man,” he said all of the sudden. “He killed himself. He would do it anyway.”

Chloe wasn’t going to ask, what this ‘anyway’ exactly meant. “If I was there, I would kill him without hesitation,” she replied instead. “Did you thought I would… be concerned about his death? Is that why you were avoiding me in the last days?”

“No,” Lucifer shook his head but relaxed a bit.

“I am sorry for what happened to him, and even more, for what happened to his daughter. They were both the vicitms of the gang war. But if I had to kill him to save Trixie, or any other kidnapped victim, I would shoot to kill,” stated Chloe.

“What a fierce woman you are, Detective,” smirked Lucifer and Chloe slightly bridled at his indulgent tone, because, devil or not, no one was going to treat her patronizingly. Lucifer, however, didn’t notice her reaction. Evidently relaxed, he spoke with enlivenment: “You know, for the whole time while investigating your case I had a feeling that this ‘stunt’ thing might be important. I was teasing Daniel asking about it, right, but I also truly wanted to learn what it was about.”

“You have good detective instincts. You know how to ask the right questions,” nodded Chloe and Lucifer, always greedy for compliments, beamed.

It was probably a good moment to speak about his return to the consulting job. The detective took deep a breath, preparing herself for the more difficult part of the conversation. “Lucifer, about your return to the LAPD…”

“Detective, that was not a deal,” he interrupted her almost violently. “Saving your offspring, it was not a deal. You do not owe me anything.”

The air around them suddenly thickened.

“I know,” replied cautiously Chloe. Not a deal, right. She thought about it. She would perhaps even prefer it to be a deal. A favour. A favour could be repaid. She would keep her end of the deal and then, probably, she could somehow regain control over her life, that was now slipping out of her grasp.

But Lucifer never asked her to make a deal with him, only said ‘I acknowledge this child as the part of you’. Now Chloe thought that there was something almost dangerous in his unconditional commitment. Trixie was the part of her life… and she was the part of his.

“The decision is still yours,” continued Lucifer, leaning toward her, as if he wanted to make sure that she understood. “If you do not want to work with me, I can still undo it. You only have to tell me, what you desire.”

Chloe exhaled slowly. She intended to berate him for not consulting his return with her, but now it didn’t seem important. She gave up and replied simply:

“I want to work with you. I am glad you are back.”

“I… I am glad to hear it,” replied Lucifer a bit awkwardly and for a moment they sat in silence.

Finally, Chloe cleared her throat. “Last time when we discussed… our cooperation… you gave me conditions,” she said cautiously, feeling that she was stepping into the very slippery ground.

“No need for it now, is it?” he replied with a question. “I only wanted you to… to know, who are you dealing with. But you already do, don’t you?”

“You are not human,” said Chloe quietly.

“To put it mildly,” agreed Lucifer, draining the remains of his drink.

Chloe thought that he started to insist on her making ‘the informed decision’ when their relationship started to evolve from professional into more personal one and wondered, whether they are still on this stage – and how could she approach this subject. Lucifer, however, must have thought about something entirely different, because, after a long moment of staring in the empty glass, he suddenly said almost angrily:

“Listen, Detective, I know how your mind works, I know why are you sitting here so calm, not asking about anything. I am certain you have rationalized it all, put into some safe, acceptable framework. Believe me, it is not that simple.”

He rubbed his forehead and for a moment he appeared tired and worried, very much unlike the Lucifer she knew, when he spoke further: “There are real forces, other than this you know from the earthly plane, and they have influence on our lives. It more then likely that at the moment we are just pawns on the chessboards set by someone else,” he stated bitterly.

Chloe blinked in surprise, not understanding. And then she recalled as he said once: ‘I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you’. How it scared her. There was something more in this then just them both. Something more than just her and him. Something, that troubled him, so probably it should terrify her.

_Deal with it._

“What do you mean?” she asked forcing herself to speak calmly.

“That all this is getting… too special. That we have launched a chain of events, that cannot be stopped or reversed. Fallen into the trap. Pushed the wrong button. Or the right button depends on how you call it. That things are slipping out of my control.”

Chloe looked at him, narrowing her eyes. “I still don’t understand,” she said coldly. “But if that is your way of telling me to keep my distance, that’s fine.”

“I thought about it,” nodded Lucifer. He went to the bar and poured himself a new drink. “I thought about it all, Detective, when you decided I am not worth the risk and left my life,” he called from the bar, seemingly casually, even if there was a shadow of resentment in his voice.

“Hey, don’t be mean about it,” protested Chloe. “That hurt, what you said.”

“So it did, when you left” he retorted, “but that’s not a point. The point is, that I thought it over… and I was actually satisfied, that you left. That is, after the initial outburst of… disappointment,” he added a bit quieter, his sight running toward the new glass table.

Chloe, both hurt and ashamed, bit her lips and reimained silent, not commenting on the fact that she had never before heard about the disappointment coming in outbursts.

“That’s because, Detective,” continued Lucifer, taking place on the sofa again, with a new drink in his hand, “in the last weeks I was increasingly… troubled, but the fact, how the things were changing… around us. You were so right to state that I make things I did not intend. And that’s indeed troubling, Detective, because I am used to knowing what to expect, both from myself and from the world.” He swirled the glass, for a moment concentrating on the amber fluid inside it, as if was expected to see the said world in his drink.

“And then you appear, Detective, and you are… you are the change. I cannot read you. I cannot influence you. On the contrary, you… influence me in the most unexpected manner. You make me…” he hesitated and silenced for a moment, and said almost with irritation. “And you… disturb me, Detective. You disturb me in so many ways.”

Chloe snorted angrily, half rising from her seat, ready to leave without a word but Lucifer stopped her standing in front of her and concluded:

“You are changing me, Detective.”

“I can leave.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” replied Lucifer, without thinking. For a moment they stood, looking at each other until Chloe gave up and wordlessly sat back on the sofa.

Did the devil just tell her, that she was changing him? No, if she was to deal with it, she couldn’t dwell on it. Let just assume he meant something like changing his entertaining lifestyle. Not some… otherworldly forces playing with their lives.

“The conclusion is, Detective,” continued Lucifer, “that I thought it all can not be accidental. And that the consequences might be… significant. I was tempted to end it… deny and forget you. Even now, I could still scare you away from here, so that you would never return. But I don’t want to,” he sighed and for a while looked at her so fondly, that all her rancour disappeared - nice, bright and warm feelings in her blooming again.

It was Lucifer, who broke the moment, stepping back and circling the room. When he spoke again, he did it with his usual flair: “Besides, Detective, I fear that if you left again, something could happen once more that would push us closer… What if next time it would be more dangerous? For example, something could happen to you. Who knows, where I would have to search for you? Especially considering the fact that you are prone to this… mortality problem. What if you die and, of course, go straight up there? How would I get you back? Not impossible, but terrible inconvenience, for everyone around.”

Chloe frowned, lost somewhere in the middle of his speech. “What are you talking about?”

“I told you, it is likely we both are… manipulated. Played with, like toys.”

“You are just paranoid,” muttered the detective.

“Paranoia is a healthy habit where I come from,” Lucifer shrugged his shoulders. “Without getting into too many details, what matters is that I decided to play along, at least for a time being. So, I am giving a part of my free will for your safety, Detective. Please, remember who says it and appreciate the gesture.”

Chloe slowly shook her head. Whatever this piece of twisted reasoning was about, it sounded as if Lucifer was making some kind of sacrifice. A duty.

“My safety?” she made sure.

“Precisely.”

“Bullshit!” she bridled and looked at him challengingly. “You are not giving up anything. You are just keeping on doing what you like, as always. Admit it, you missed… us. The precinct and the investigations. All these parties you had in the LUX in the meantime, they bored you, didn’t they?”

Lucifer for a moment kept her sighed, maintaining surprised and a bit hurt expression until he gave up and snorted with a chuckle.

“Immensely,” he admitted and for a moment, the mood between them lightened when they laughed in the restored camaraderie. “No promises, but I will try to behave… better,” he added. “You know, not to trample all over your rules too much.”

“That sounds promising,” smirked Chloe, well aware that this was the closest to an apology she would ever hear for this evening in Jeremy’s Mitchell’ shop. “Seems that you are really changing.”

Oh. That was probably the wrong thing to say.

She almost saw him closing himself. As if to underline it, he retreated behind the piano, taking place on the bench.

“That’s not like this, Chloe. Don’t make mistake,” he said almost vehemently. “Don’t take me for someone I am not. I care about you, but that’s all.” He interrupted abruptly and started playing, only to raise his head after a moment and stress: “Only about you.”

Chloe sighed and for a while just listened to him. She almost believed that was going to be that easy, that bright and warm feeling inside her growing, when they laughed together.

She almost forgot who was she dealing with.

Nothing was going to be easy.

And yet, he also didn’t know everything.

“You called Dan,” she said quietly.

“Excuse me?” Lucifer looked at her, thrown off-balance.

“You called Dan,” Chloe repeated a bit louder. “Just after leaving this museum, you and Maze called Dan to let him know that Trixie was safe. To spare him what? No more than ten or fifteen minutes of anxiety, until I or someone else would call him with the news? And you even don’t like him. So,” she hesitated and finished bravely, “I do not think that this… changing is only about me.”

Lucifer made a strange sound and shrugged his shoulders, resuming the playing. “Acting on a whim is my speciality,” he said, avoiding her sight. And, after a long while, he added quietly: “Do notice, that you are changing too, Chloe.”

This time Chloe smiled with indulgence. Of course she was changing. Her whole life was full of changes. She started one career and then pursued another. Married a man and broke up with him. Her child was growing, each day was bringing something new.

And then she frowned, sting by the anxiety, that that was not what Lucifer was talking about.

Reflections of feelings passed through her mind. The desperate need not to leave Lucifer when she was exiting his apartment. The bright warm joy, while thanking him for doing something good. Some words, she said, some peculiar expressions she used, like this small, unexpected remark about mercy, that irked him so long.

He generally reacted badly at any display of these feelings on her account.

All these were small things, subtle… but unsettling. Was it, indeed, some external influence she was unaware of? That… change between them, was it something more than a flirt, friendship, more than a bit of romance?

A destiny?

For a moment, Chloe felt a wave of vertigo, overwhelmed by the realization, that her destiny is joined with the being so complex and unpredictable.

“Detective? Are you finally freaking out?” Lucifer called from the piano, proving that he kept an eye on her while playing. “Took you long enough.”

“I am fine,” replied slowly Chloe, taking a deep breath. “That means, I am terrified. But I told you I will deal with it.”

“Amazing,” sighed Lucifer, shaking his head. “You are the most valiant woman I have ever met.” And yes, he was laughing, this damn indulgent smirk again twisting his mouth.

_As if he couldn’t show her some compassion._

Compassion? Chloe shook her head. What a stupid idea. None of these warm, fair feelings were… adequate. Whatever was happening in that full of bliss part of her mind, she should better put it aside, because it was of no use here.

Still, she was going somehow to deal with it. Out of so many reasons: because she promised, because she was not a hypocrite or coward…

Because she wanted him.

She realized it on her way here, in this elevator, and it didn’t change. Somehow, in this unexplicable, dangerous world of smoke and mirrors he drew her into, it was all that really matered.

She listened to him playing, something very classic, quick and full of life. It was, probably, the time for her to leave. She promised Maze not to take too long. The conversation with Lucifer didn’t perhaps solve or explain much, but one thing was certain: none of them was leaving anywhere. They would have time to unravel… their destiny.

Or, perhaps, she could stay a while longer. Maze certainly wouldn’t mind a little delay. She could stand up and join Lucifer on this piano bench and see where would it lead… because she didn’t miss the fact, that – since things started getting serious – he stopped flirting with her and most certainly would not resume it if she wouldn’t take the matters in her hands. After all, deep inside, despite all his indulgent, mocking remarks, he was as terrified as she was. Or, perhaps, even more, considering his perspective. It was up to her to do something about it.

Chloe rested her head on the soft backrest of the sofa, listening to the music, savouring the choices, that were still her to be made.

**The end**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers,
> 
> the story ends here and you may imagine, that it would proceed more or less like in the show. The Palmetto case still needs to be solved. Amenadiel is waiting to bring Malcolm back from his deathbed. The Goddess is trying to get out of her cell.  
> The difference is, that there would be more honesty - and courage - in Chloe and Lucifer relations and that, hopefully, could change a lot.
> 
> Thank you very much for staying so long with me!


End file.
